


Built of Bones and Bolts

by Impossible_Impact



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2018-08-07 19:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 98,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7727740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impossible_Impact/pseuds/Impossible_Impact
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living the plush, fast-track life alongside a billionaire, globe-trotting uncle couldn't be any further from how Aulora McAllister wanted to spend her days. For this global icon, it was ironically, the simple, greasy life in the small town of Jasper, Nevada with secrets of titans from space that was calling her home. </p><p>So when she returns to the states, to that small desert town and reconnects with friends, old and new, human and alien, being caught up in a race against time for ancient weapons of mass destruction and the revival of a long dead planet was the last thing she had in mind. Along with Team Prime and their mighty leader, Aulora may just discover her role alongside the Autobots was nothing short of an astounding destiny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

The sleek Mercedes came to a stop, delicately landing on the pavement below, as if it knew it wasn’t staying for long. All the neighbors quietly peaked their heads around their long curtains and through their windows to get a small glimpse at the new family that moved into the Stevenson’s old condo. Though the Stevenson’s had moved to a senior living complex down in Florida, and had not left a substantial legacy for the house’s new residents, this was Jasper Nevada. Someone foolishly willing to move into Jasper was a rare occurrence, and had gained the full and daunting attention of the whole town.

The neighborhood quickly withdrew its breath and held it tight within their throat as a rear door opened. A pair of slender legs swung out of the back and jumped out onto the sidewalk. A beautiful girl, ripe within her teenage years stretched her arms out and straightened her body, readjusting her muscles, rigid from the long trip there. Her curly, light brown hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, that rested over of her shoulder, with baby hairs that scattered the sides of her face.

She wore a dark-green khaki jacket, with light, skinny jeans that were hurriedly tucked into her knee high, caramel boots. She had a one-shoulder back pack slung over back, her ear phones dangling from an open pocket. Her eyes were intoxicatingly pale blue, her irises enveloping the sandy terrain around her. A tall, middle-aged man, adorned in a crisp suit and tie came to stand next to her, carrying two luggage bags with him.

“Are you sure this is where you would like live, Ms. McAllister?” the tall man asked, giving the condo another, unapproved, glance over.

“I’m sure, Joseph. And, it’s a cute neighborhood, too,” the young girl commented, gesturing to the surrounding houses.

“Very well, Ms. McAllister. Just remember that your uncle’s San Francisco villa is always there,” he stated.

The young girl couldn’t help but giggle. The two let out a large, built-up sigh. “Well here are your bags,” placing the two bags by the girl, “and your uncle will arrive here soon,” he pronounced.

“Right, like that’s going to happen,” the young girl replied, sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

The tall man kneeled down, and placed his hands upon her shoulders, looking at her face with strong, sympathetic eyes “Ms. McAllister, you know your uncle cares about you and would do anything for you.”

“Hmmm…if it simply involves handing over a credit card,” the girl mumbled.

The man gave a saddened smile and lightly kissed the top of her forehead before straightening up from the ground.

“Good luck, Ms. McAllister. Please do stay in touch,” he said, as he made his way back to the car.

“Joseph?” the girl said, turning back around to look at him.

“Yes, Ms. McAllister?”

“Thank you…for everything,” she said, giving him a warm smile.

He nodded with a smile. “I wish you well, Ms. McAllister. And if you should ever need help, or still require a fresh pot of raspberry tea, you know where to find me,” he replied.

And with that, the tall man slightly bowed to the young girl and stepped into the car, driving it back onto the hot pavement and out of sight.

The girl turned back to the house, and stood there for a while, taking it all in.

The tan condo rested on the top of a slight hill, its black shutters and window flower pots giving a friendlier feel. However, another glance down at the sandy lawn, with a few brown weeds trying desperately to survive in the dry atmosphere earned another sigh from the teenager and a small snicker. Jasper never changed. She picked up her luggage and made her way up the stone path to her front door. She stepped inside, quietly closing the door behind her. The entrance of the house was located just before the staircase to the attic and the hallways to the kitchen.

She dropped the bags at the front door and walked around the empty, empty house, for what it seemed to be the tenth time. She took mental note of the walls she would have to repaint, knowing that an unending sea of deep red was going to start annoying her, if it wasn’t already. She peaked down at her small, leather watch; 6:30.

If her memory still served her right, rush hour was down and the small Rout 32 highway, Jasper’s only connection to the outside world, was practically empty.

She plopped her backpack down on the floor, a echo resonating through the empty, house of solitude. She unzipped its first pocket and brought out a pair of worn out yellow skates. The yellow paint had faded, the shoe laces were frayed and the wheels had lost their blue hint and were now simply transparent. They were respectively worn out, to say the least. Locking the front door behind her, the young girl threw off her boots and dug her feet into the skates, fitting easily into the molded soles. She quickly tied up the laces and jumped down to the bottom step with ease, immediately taking off down the street.

She could already see, at the end of her road, the small on ramp to Route 32. Though it wasn’t exactly an on ramp, being the fact that Route 32’s speed limit was 50 mph, it was the closest thing to a highway Jasper was able to have.

A large smile played across the young girl’s freckled cheeks as her legs fell into the familiar, back-and-forth rhythm, the sound of her roller blades gliding across the road playing like an old CD track. She had now made it out to the deserted highway.

That’s all Jasper ever was; empty.

An empty condo, an empty road, and an empty wanna-be highway.

The large, straight road seemed to continue for miles, and yet not a car in sight. Warmed by the glowing evening sun, the teenager simply continued gliding down the road, a familiar emptiness settling into her heart. She could feel tears prick the sides of her eyes as she stared up at the golden sun, furiously blinking and tucking them back into the folds of her eyelids. Her blurry eyes turned back to the road, watching as the light played off of the bottle caps and beer bottles that were scattered along the side.

One particular bottle seem to cast this electrifying swirl of blues and greens, that seemed to twist and turn like the inside of a tornado. It was amazingly beautiful.

She slowed her blades to a stop before the bottle’s illusion of light and lowered herself down to it. Curiosity grabbed her fingers and pulled them down to the light, searching for the solid ground beneath it.

But it never came.

She realized this too late, as her searching fingers dangled lower than ground level, the distribution of weight pulling her down into it. She screamed out loud to the blue and green walls that seem to dance with magic as she fell down into the hole, the daunting weightlessness tugging at her frayed nerves and empty stomach. Her slender fingers grabbed the air frantically, searching for something solid, but all they brushed upon was fast moving air.

Suddenly, her feather like body crashed down hard upon solid ground, her lungs exploding with a fierce cry of pain as her side impacted with foreign rock.   

She let her body lay there, helpless on the ground as she stared up at her surroundings.

The sky above her was painted with the most dangerous of greys and blacks, the sun itself hidden by a circle of complete black, simply outlined with a ring of a deathly, dark red. Below the hidden sun was an eerie edifice of rocks, climbing against each other to form a large volcano. From its center, she watched completely awe-struck as balls of flaming, purple rock erupted from its center and spewed themselves across the sky, like ghastly stars. The air itself was laced thick with smoke and reeked of something fowl.

Suddenly, a pair of moving objects caught the young girl’s eyes at the foot of the volcano.

She could barely make out two large masses, engaged deep within, what appeared to be, a battle of some sort. A grey mass, clad with spiky clothing and sickly purple eyes stood proud and resolute upon another mass, held down to the ground by the sheer weight of the other. The mass on the ground was clothed in bright blue and red material, as it stared up at a flaming sword held high above his head. After squinting her eyes, the girl suddenly reeled back in shock. The two masses were robots of some sort. They were in no way human, though their beastly size should have been the first indicator.

And she could feel tears trickle down her cheeks as a thought suddenly hit her; this was a death match.

And the one on the ground was going to die.

“NO!”

Complete and utter horror dropped like a weight in her stomach when she realized the scream came from her mouth.  

Both heads turned to look at the small girl that had appeared.

Suddenly, the large, grey one came to her side with great speed and grabbed her arms in his hand, his face adorned with a sinister smile, rich with victory. He looked to watch as the other being stumbled up to them, weakly dragging his damaged body with it.

“Put the human down, Megatron!”

The girl shivered as goose bumps traveled along her body from the sheer power and brilliance behind the red and blue being’s voice. Though torn and beaten, the being gave no inclination it was hurt.

The young girl’s eyes suddenly scrunched with hesitation.

Megatron?

Though an uncommon name, there was something that was struck in her mind by that name.

Her eyes suddenly flew open with realization.

Megatron…Cliffjumper.

It all came reeling back to her at full speed, the red robot’s smile flashing across her eyes, sweet memories.

Turning to look back up at the blue and red mech, her mind began filling in the holes.

Optimus Prime.

That was the name of the robot in front of her, or rather the Autobot leader.

And her stomach sank as she realized that she was being held captive by the Lord of Darkness himself.  

“But Optimus, don’t you remember her? This is Lorelei’s little niece,” Megatron sneered, peering down at her. He tightened his grip around her arms and she gave out a small yelp of protest.

Optimus squinted his eyes, looking at her, his battle mask hiding any emotion that could’ve been playing across his face at that moment. His pure blue eyes suddenly lit up in realization.

“She’s grown hasn’t she,” Megatron observed.

“Let go of me you freak!” she called out, trying to weasel and kick her way out of his grip.

“Megatron, do not be foolish. It’s me you want, not Aulora!” he yelled back.

She smiled at the sound of her name.

He remembered her as well.

“Oh but, Optimus, it is her I want. I was the one who brought her here,” he sneered.

His voice was so sickening and disgusting, like a slimy nails scratching down a piece of metal. She continued to wriggle against his grip.

“You see, Optimus, Cliffjumper was aware of this Dark Energeon volcano, and had mention this topic to the little pest,” giving her a little shake, “This volcano’s mantle holds an ample amount of Dark Energeon that was placed here by Unicron, himself, millions of years ago. But, he poisoned the Energeon, and would burn the armor of whomever touched. Well, there was one and only one way in counteracting this poison, and Cliffjumper is the only bot, that I know of, that knew of this formula. This formula could stabilize the toxic and allow the Dark Energon for use,” he said, smiling evilly at his accomplishment. “And my very reliable intel states that she now carries it. So, bug, shall we do this the easy way or the hard way?” he asked, peering down at her.

She internally sighed with relief when she felt the familiar necklace brush upon her chest, underneath her shirt. If Megatron had seen it, he would’ve simply pulled it off of her neck.

Cliffjumper warned her to guard it with her life. That the solution inside was more powerful than Megatron, or anybody, thought possible.

She looked up in his face and scowled. “You’re never going to get it, Megatron,” she yelled.

Megatron just smiled. “Wrong choice,” he sneered.

She yelped with surprise as she felt her body lower only feet from the ground, where a small pool of rich, purple lava lay. He pinched her arms and  brought them closer to the burning chemical. The heat that radiated from the lava alone stung her arms, and she tried furiously to wretch her arms back, but Megatron held her body firmly.

“Tell me where the solution is, and your appendages will be spared,” Megatron threatened.

Her body trembling with immense fear, Aulora slowly shook her head with refusal.

“Alright then, you asked for it,” Megatron smiled and with that, he plunged her small arms in the purple liquid.

She screamed in pain. The intense heat burned her skin and stung her arms with pain she had never felt before. Her arms quickly  became numb with pain.

Her screaming pleas were answered mere seconds later when Optimus plowed his body, with ever remaining strength he had, into Megatrons’, forcing the tyrant to drop the small child onto the ground.

Her body still shaking with shock, Aulora turned to look at her arms, sprawled across the ground. The skin was a sickly red, some patches a light pink. Steam continued to rise from them.

She looked up again to see a large grey jet flying away, her mind slowly remembering the Decepticons had the ability of flight.

Why did he retreat?

She was reminded, once again, of Optimus force of strength and persistence, and settled with the idea that the large leader had chase him away.

Suddenly, she felt an incredibly smooth and warm material cup itself underneath her small body and ever so gently and slowly carry it up from the ground. Aulora could only stare breathless at the Autobot’s leader’s face, as he slowly unsheathed the battle mask gripped around his face. His eyes were no longer scrunched along the corners as they had been moments before. Now, at the moment, they were two, perfectly round circles of blue, completely still. His mouth, which she was not able to see before, was now slowly starting to part in the center, as if was going to say something.

But the stars that danced along her vision slowly grew bigger and bigger, until her frenzied mind fell into a raw darkness of unconsciousnes.

 

* * *

 

 

“So, how come you never mentioned her before?” she questioned, her pink highlighted ponytails bouncing in the air as she plopped herself down by a small boy with an orange sweater vest and spiked hair. Her feet playfully scraped against the side of the platform as she waited for her guardian to answer.

The large green mech simply shrugged. “I guess we really didn’t think it mattered,” he answered.

“What I don’t get, is why Cliffjumper gave the solution to the human, and didn’t even mention it to us,” a small purple femme asked, leaning against the wall, her eyes scrunching with agitation.  

“Maybe he thought it would be safer with a human, someone he thought Megatron couldn’t find. He was probably trying to protect you guys,” a raven-haired boy answered, perched next to the small femme.

“How is she doing anyway,” A bright yellow mech asked from his seat on the ground.

“She’s resting now. She fell unconscious because of the lack of fresh air at the volcano,” a white and red mech answered, looking temporarily up from a small control panel in front of him.

“But how are her burns?” Raf asked, clearly worried.

“I’m afraid of the possibility the reaction will never truly heal. The toxin within the Dark Energon is lethal to we, Cybertronians. I’m surprised it has not done more damage to our young human here,” Ratchet answered.

The Autobot medic once again turned to peak at his fearless leader, a habit he had made within the hour. With arms crossed habitually across his chest, Optimus Prime stood in the entrance of one of the main hallways, the side of his body leaning ever so lightly upon its frame. His glance was still fixated upon the girl, as it had been every single time Ratchet had checked previously. He watched with a steady stare upon the young girl resting quietly upon a gurney, which had been for convenience reasons placed next to the large medical berth platform for Team Prime.

But there was one detail about his leader that caused the old field medic to observe him once again. His battle mask had been activated. He remembered clearly from before, that as the Prime had gently and lovingly carried the human back through the ground bridge, cupped protectively in his grasp, his full face could be seen. His stoic, straight-lined mouth never wavered with emotion throughout the process, even when the young human grimaced with raw pain as June Darby had expertly bandage her burns, but the simple fact that the mask had been removed, put away, during that time suggested something deep to Ratchet.

There was something larger toying around in his leader’s rather dangerously occupied mind, something that gained all of his attention, even from infamous mask.

And all because of Aulora.

Ratchet was suddenly pulled from his deep thoughts at the sound of young Raf’s voice.

“Shouldn’t we call her parents? You know, have some kind of cover story,” he asked out loud.

No one seemed to hear Jack mumble, “I don’t even know who she’s staying with now.”

Because the young Darby remembered Aulora as well, and he knew that the idea of “parents” or even “family” for that matter, was a little different in her case.


	2. Fatal Presence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate of A Shooting Star: Unveiling the Impossible  
> Fatal Presence 
> 
> For Aulora, returning to Jasper, Nevada isn't just simply re-opening old wounds. It's bringing her back to her family she left behind so many years ago; back to Team Prime. And as she rejoins the Autobots, her world is catapulted off balance by the loss of a dear friend, and the discovery of an innate power very much alive.

  
As she continued to wallow in her world of soft darkness, her tired body not completely ready to wake up, a single sound began to penetrate through.

It was a…clicking.

An incessant one at that.

Sometimes it came in strings of patterns, than a long pause, sometimes followed by one single click or another rapid series of them.

And despite the internal commands against the noise, it would not stop.

She slowly pulled apart her eyelids, waiting a few seconds for her vision to focus.

Slowly, the image of Ratchet's rigid body came into form, his fast-moving fingers the source of the clicking sounds. He was typing.

He seemed to sense that she was awake and turned to her.

It had been years since she had seen that face. Though he openly expressed a cold, relentless demeanor, it was moments such as these where his full face came into focus, and beneath the beautiful weathered age that painted his face, his wise eyes held that of concern, as they had 5 years ago.

He waited patiently until her eyes were fully open and she began twisting her head around to take in her surroundings.

"Good morning," he said, though from the sound of his voice it sounded more of a statement of information rather than a greeting.

"Good morning," she replied, her voice scratchy with sleep and overuse.

Her continual screaming the other day at the volcano hadn't helped her throat.

Go figure.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

Knowing the medic did not want a report on my mental state of being, she let her body relax to assess what exactly her body was feeling.

"My throat's still a little sore. My arms sting. All in all, ok I guess," I replied.

The field medic nodded. "June Darby will be by later on in the evening to redress your burns," he informed.

She remembered her kind smile from last night. But sadly, that was all she could remember about her.

Last night was more of a hazy memory, numb with ointments, bandages and pain medication.

She could remember what happened last night, but the images were harder to produce.

It was as if she knew the script of the play but could not picture the characters. Just thinking about pictures made her head feel even groggier. A distinct, heavy force felt like it was resting on her brain like a pillow, and her head could not take the foreign mass.

"You were placed on an oxygen machine due to the lack of fresh air at the site of the volcano, thus the lack of fresh oxygen traveling to your brain. Some agitation in your head is expected," he said, seeming to sense her distress.

She weakly nodded, surprised by the pain that action alone seemed to cost her.

And like prickly vines, sleep began to wordlessly entangle itself around her brain and then her eyes. She found it difficult to just keep them open.

But she had just slept.

She looked back up to the medic.

She didn't want to sleep now.

She was finally back with the Autobots, and the last thing she wanted to do was close her eyes and pass out for another 12 hours.

She wanted to catch up with them, knowing a lot more has happened to them in 5 years than it probably has to her.

The simple vision of Ratchet alone seemed to fill her soul itself, refilling it with a vital source she had taken years to discover.

She felt… at home.

For once in a very long time, the feeling of acceptance and openness was overwhelming…daunting, but beautiful.

But sleep seemed to already know it was victorious. She turned with already drooping eyes back up to the Cybertronian.

"Ratchet, I'm sorry but I'm going to go back to sleep for a little while," she told him.

His eyes suddenly stopped dead in scanning the page and turned full force to me. Confusion played vividly across his face. "…Of course Aulora. There's no need for apologies," he said, slowly stumbling over his response. He even offered a small smile as she groggily nodded her thanks, pulled the blankets back over her head and let sleep do the rest.

He smiled to himself again as he was awesomely reminded of how much Aulora reminded him of Lorelei.

Such a humble and kind-hearted soul, yet feisty and alive with life itself. Not only did her physical appearance mirror that of her aunt's, but Aulora's genuine personality was also an exact replica. It had only been 5 years since the last visit Lorelei and Aulora had made with Cliffjumper, and yet it felt like lifetimes ago.

His heart suddenly sank in his chest as he turned back to the small girl.

Who was going to tell her about Cliffjumper?

He knew the young teenager had been fond of him years ago.

And to think that was simply another death toll she would have to add to her growing list. His heart sunk even deeper within his chest as he replayed last night's late private meeting with Agent Fowler.

_"We thank you again for coming here," Optimus Prime said, calmly._

_The old Army Ranger gave a small nod of his head, turning to look at the small girl that had been moved to the kids' couch, swaddled fiercely with blankets._

_"When Ratchet told me she was back, I didn't believe it at first," he answered, watching as her chest slowly rose and fell under the mound of blankets._

_"Her return is a revelation for us as well. And it appears Megatron wasted no time in acquiring the frequency to access the serum bottle's homing beacon," Optimus noted, nodding slightly to the sleeping teen._

_The Prime turned back to Agent Fowler. "It would seem there is no longer need for your government's undercover scouts and their watch over Aulora, now that she is back once again under our watch," Optimus noted._

_Agent Fowler simply nodded again._

_"I am sorry to interject, but I was curious as to how wise it would be to remove the human undercover agents. The rest of the McAllister family will still need protection that we cannot continually provide," Ratchet added._

_Both Prime and agent turned to the medic with eyes riddled with sympathetic understanding._

_"Daniel, Rachel and Lorelei McAllister all passed away in a car accident 5 years ago. Aulora was the only one who walked out of there alive," the Autobot's liaison explained quietly, as if the louder the statement was made, the more troublesome it became._

_Ratchet's face scowled with perplexity. "That's impossible," he scoffed._

_But after turning to find his leader's saddened gaze, his mouth fell open slightly._

_"But…it can't be," he stammered._

_He turned back to his leader. "Why didn't you tell us?" he asked innocently, knowing whatever the reason, it was justified._

_"The secret remained between Cliffjumper, Agent Fowler and myself as to not discourage the rest of the team that our prescience within that of a human's life will always produce fatal consequences," Optimus gravely explained._

_"But it didn't…did it?" Ratchet asked._

_"We're still not entirely sure. The feds easily passed it off as a hit and run, but there may be more to it than that," Agent Fowler explained._

Ratchet sighed as he turned back to the work at hand, work that was clear and fixable. But his mind turned back to Aulora. For her sake, he hoped that it was simply a "hit and run" as Agent Fowler had put it. It seemed…simpler that way. A human killing a human. For reasons unknown to the medic, death by that of the identical race seemed more natural and almost…forgiving than if another race, one as malevolent and malicious as the Decepticons, performed the same act.


	3. Trials of the Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate of A Shooting Star: Unveiling the Impossible  
> Trials of the Soul
> 
> For Aulora, returning to Jasper, Nevada isn't just simply re-opening old wounds. It's bringing her back to her family she left behind so many years ago; back to Team Prime. And as she rejoins the Autobots, her world is catapulted off balance by the loss of a dear friend, and the discovery of an innate power very much alive.

"Aulora, for Primus's sake would you please stop fidgeting! I can't run a full diagnostic scan on you if you are continually in motion!" he reprimanded peering down at the small child seated on his examination table, hands on hips.

If there was one thing the small child possessed it was the energy of the Twins…combined!

She almost never listened to his medical advice, always up and about, never resting.

There had come a moment during the past 3 days where the old medic had found his fingers wrapped around his always handy wrench, merely thoughts away from gripping it and smacking Aulora upside the head with it after she disobeyed his orders and had begun tossing a ball around with Miko.

He inwardly cursed the twins, knowing if they had somehow joined the Allspark, this was their incarnate form.

They would never leave him alone.

She plastered her legs hard against the table and turned up to the medic with a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, Ratchet…Just a little nervous," she answered.

He hadn't even waited for her response, seeing as her attention was on him, he realized it would be a good a time as ever to scan her.

Her curious eyes watched as he, quickly as possible, ran the green light over her body and held out his hand to stop her as he read the machine's report, already seeing her legs twitching to bolt away.

"I hardly see the practical use in worrying yourself over the first day of academy," he scoffed, turning to the large, overhead screens as he relayed the results to them.

"First, we call it school on Earth. Second, I'm just nervous. I haven't been to school in 5 years," she answered.

Ratchet's ears perked as he heard the small child wince with quiet pain as she slipped her sleeves back over her bandaged arms.

He rolled his eyes.

_Just as proud as Optimus_ , he grumbled to himself.

"So, am I clear to go?" she quipped.

"Yes, yes, yes. Just please, by the Allspark, do not strain yourself. I still have yet to discover if the poison had caused any deep, neural damage," he explained, turning back to her.

"Cool," she answered, already hopping off and grabbing her bag from the floor.

"Yep, yep, yep. Optimus would like to speak with you before you head off to school," Ratchet informed.

She turned up to him, her bright, blue eyes furrowing with confusion.

She pointed to her chest with her finger. "Me?" she asked.

Ratchet simply nodded.

He watched comically as her body seemed to instantly tense and stiffen.

"He should be coming back from the training room," he called back over his shoulder, already turning back to his work. He listened tentatively as stiff, quiet footsteps hesitantly stumbled away.

 

* * *

 

 

Optimus's audio receptors quickly alerted him to a sound coming from the west hallway.

It resembled the pattern of footsteps, clearly a human's for their lack of weight, but why. According to his internal time screen, the human's school day would commence within the hour. They should all be at their houses, their guardians already on their way or just about to head out at that moment.

He passed the hallway back to his quarters and turned down the west main hallway to the main room as he listened closer to the footsteps, having being already able to decipher the kids' footstep patterns.

These were lighter and nimbler than Jack's simple, steady foot-fall. It was much like Miko's, but these were rather gentle and graceful, a quality he was certain the Japanese teenager did not possess. And the feet themselves sounded to be carrying a somewhat taller being than Raf's. And as flash of warm brown rounded the corner ahead, Optimus realized that his deciphering was right; it was Aulora's.

She pulled her small pack higher over her back and gave him a small wave, which he responded to with a small nod of his head.

She wanted to see him, or rather she knew he wanted to speak with her. She gazed with wide eyes up at the leader, once again awe-struck by the very power that seemed to radiate of off his body. She had encountered him once after the day at the volcano, and her nervousness had only allowed her a thanks to the Prime for saving her, who rewarded her with a small nod of acknowledgement and then he was off and gone.

And whatever she tried, she could not get him out of her head.

She was enthralled by this attribute he possessed that seemed to latch onto her. Whether it was his dedication, humbleness, wisdom, strength or leadership, she could not, for the life of her, place a finger on what exactly had her mind captured. She knew as a young girl, the stories Cliffjumper had told her about the mighty leader certainly entertained her to no end, but it was something about him, standing there looking at him, that raised that entertainment to…something else.

Though his consistent patrols, missions, data logging and secluded drives did not leave the young teenager much time to find the rather solitude leader and find out just what had her mind's scratchy, agitated curiosity spinning, she was determined. She was going to find out, one way or another, why his mere eyes alone seemed to not only radiate with complete, immense power, but seemed to fill her empty soul with an unknown feeling of…she couldn't find the right words.

Completion?

Possibly, but the spot that he seemed to fill never made itself known to her, previously, that it was ever empty.

"Ratchet said you needed to talk to me?" she asked, with large eyes, with an almost unseen veil of intimidation, Optimus dually noted.

The large distance between his face and hers suddenly became apparent and he kneeled down to one knee, knowing that information so…altering should be given as respectively and delicately as possible.

"Yes, that is right. I wish to speak to you of Cliffjumper," Optimus started, watching as Aulora's face lit up at the sound of his name, her dimples scrunching into little bunches from her large smile.

"Yeah, where is that all-knowing chatter box anyway? I can't believe he didn't wake me to say hello," she chuckled, looking expectantly up into his eyes.

He took an inward breath to reassure himself. _You have dealt with_   _with worse situations_ , _worse news than this_ , he instructed himself.

Simple, direct, precise and clean.

That's all it needs to be.

No emotions.

No regret, no remorse.

Let them come to terms with it themselves.

"Aulora, I am sorry to inform you that Cliffjumper has sadly passed away 2 years ago."

He watched patiently as he let the truth horrifically hit the young girl's face.

Her mouth and eyes were wide with confusion and a hint of fear in them. "Wait…what? That's…not possible," she stuttered, stumbling desperately over her words and thoughts.

"Cliffjumper left his post to address a large signal of Energon that appeared approximately 2.5 clicks from his position. It was unknown to Cliffjumper, as well as to me, that it would be the first official, earthly Decepticon encounter. They had taken Cliffjumper off guard, and soon took him captive moments after. His signal went off-line shortly after," he explained, watching small drops of lubricant trickle delicately down her cheek, chin and splashing silently onto the cold ground.

She shook her head, as if desperately trying to tell herself that it wasn't true.

She turned up to his patient eyes. "Do you know where Arcee is?" she asked, quietly.

Optimus was thrown back by her question.

Of all the questions grief had asked him years before, this was not one he had ever encountered.

"If she has not left for Jackson yet, it is probable she still remains in the training room," he informed.

And he watched, almost perplexed, as the young human walked past him and continued in the direction he had just come from.

 

* * *

 

 

Arcee was just sliding her thruster components back into her blaster as she heard the sound of small footsteps growing louder.

She looked up to the doorway to see Aulora running into the room.

"Aulora, what are you still doing here? I thought Bumblebee…"

But she stopped mid-sentence as Aulora ran up to her ankle and tightly wrapped her arms around it.

"Uh, Aulora…you ok?" she asked, clearly confused why she was hugging her. She suddenly noticed tears along her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Arcee…to hear about Cliffjumper," she whispered.

Arcee gave a small smile in understanding, remembering Optimus had intended to break the news to her sometime today. She slowly came down on one knee and laid a comforting hand upon the human's back.

"I know how close you two were," Aulora said, another tear falling from her scrunched eyes.

Arcee continued to smile with sadness.

She felt a large drop of liquid fall from her left optic, but she made no move to wipe it away.

"Yeah, I know he was pretty fond of you too," Arcee said, her voice scratchy with emotion, pitying the broken heart below her.

That earned another wave of tears from the young human.

"But you know what?" Arcee asked.

Aulora slowly detached her head from Arcee's leg and looked up at her with wide eyes.

"I bet he found plenty of souls in the Well to pester and talk about us to," she said.

Aulora couldn't help but smile her lips and nod.

"And do you know what?" Arcee bent her finger and raised Aulora's chin to look back up at her. "He probably wouldn't be too happy seeing us crying over him like this either," Arcee's voice wavering at the end as another tear fell from her eye.

Aulora nodded firmly, lifting the neck of her shirt to wipe the tears away.

Aulora let her arms fall limply back to her sides.

"He was a good guy…wasn't he," Aulora commented.

Arcee nodded her head.

"The best," she answered.

"I'm sorry again for your loss, Arcee…loosing Tailgate and Cliffjumper like that…If you ever need anybody…you know…I'm here," she said, looking back up into the Autobot's eyes.

Arcee smiled and brought the human back into an embrace against her ankle.

The two never noticed their silent leader, concealed by the entrance's shadows. He couldn't help but feel almost surprised by the rare appearance of strength and grief coexisting in perfect balance.

To see a young child, stricken with sorrow, build the strength to run and comfort those fairing worse than her came as a surprise to the wise Prime, humbly impressed.

 

* * *

 

 

She tried shrugging it off, but misery was used to her empty heart. It had grown comfortable in her spacious soul; a little too comfortable. It settled right back in like a welcomed guest, molding perfectly back into its usual mold. She was able to hide it, perk up for a few moments to give off the impression that she was overall, ok.

Like every time she had to stand up in the front of the class and introduce herself, rhyming off her rehearsed summary and then quickly retreat back to her seat.

To come to terms with the fact that he was gone, that her first, true friend was never coming back…was almost impossible to imagine.

He had been so real, so down to earth and so full of life that it seemed unfeasible that someone like him could just simply not exist anymore.

To hear his laugh, his constant talking, his content sigh, or simply feel his head lights playful bump into the back of her legs was hard to walk away from.

She knew she had to.

She had done it so many times before.

But…she didn't want to do it again.

Especially for someone like Cliffjumper.

She trudged back to her locker to try and work its old rusty lock, knowing she had time before she had to go to her online class in the computer lab, another set of directions she probably had to ask around for. Her guide, a student ambassador and pep rally organizer, had bailed on her after first period. Jack had helped her find her afternoon classes during lunch, after she was thrilled to find that not only had the Autobot allies regrouped for lunch together but they had held a seat for her as well.

She peaked out from behind her locker door, hoping to see his familiar face pop out from the retreating crowds of kids.

She was so busy scoping out the throng of kids that she almost jumped through her skin when she felt a firm hand pat her on the shoulder.

She whipped around to find a guilty smile. "Sorry, Aulora. I didn't mean to spook yah," Jack said.

"No it's ok. Just zoned out for a sec I guess," she replied.

"So, what's your next class?" he asked, peeking down to look at her schedule clumped tightly in her hand.

"Uh, I have online class," she answered, looking down at the schedule to double check.

"Ah, cool, so do I," he answered, casually slipping his books into his other hand and gesturing his head down the hallway for her to follow.

Aulora nodded her thanks and closed her locker behind her, and walked with the raven–haired boy back down the hallway.

"So, how have classes been?" he asked, looking down at her, almost surprised to notice she was slightly smaller than Miko.

"Just as boring as I remembered them to be," she replied with a small chuckle.

"So were you like, home schooled before this?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, my uncle had a private teacher, Mr. Dooley, that traveled with us on his business trips. He taught me Math, Science, and English and I'd have an online program teach me Spanish," she replied.

"What was he like?" Jack asked as the duo rounded the corner to the stairs.

Aulora shrugged. "He was blind, but a pretty sarcastic person at that. He was definitely a piece of work," she answered.

"Kind of like Ratchet…except the blind part," Jack joked, holding the computer lab door open for Aulora.

She smiled. "Well, he's blind to plenty of other things," she joked back.

The two chuckled to themselves.

They almost jumped out of their skin as the old, haggard monitor gave a loud "Sssshhhhhhh" from behind her desk.

 

* * *

 

 

She stared wide-eyed at the scene before her.

She had only been gone a few moments to use the asylum's bathroom, leaving a quiet group of Jack, Miko and Raf, all taking turns with the 2-controller video game, with Ratchet glued to the ground bridge monitor.

She returned to find a room now covered with raw Energon piles, scattered across the floor.

Bulkhead was arguing with Ratchet, something about a faster getaway. Bumblebee was trying to get up from the ground, covered in Energon that had spilled on top of him when he slipped. He was calling over to Miko, Aulora able to gather the words "guitar chord" and "messy" from over Bulkhead and Ratchet's conversation. Jack was running down the stairs to Arcee, who was seated on top of a turned-over Energon cart, desperately trying to delicately pull a shard of rock that had lodged itself in the back of her leg.

It was a madhouse.

And being the quiet girl that she was, Aulora was already starting to walk backwards, back towards the hallway she had just left.

Anywhere away from the mess at hand.

She turned around, ready to walk away, when she her body smacked hard into a surface in front of her, pushing her to the ground.

"I apologize, Aulora. I was not aware you were in front of me. Are you alright?" Optimus asked, bending down to look over his fallen ally.

She rubbed at her stinging head and smiled. "No, it's my fault Optimus. I should've been paying better attention," she answered.

He stretched out his hand, offering his finger to the young girl. She smiled her thanks and grabbed the tip of his index finger, greatly amazed how the metal seemed soft and warm to the touch, feeling not much like metal at all.

He slowly pulled her up from the ground, but just as the human was righting herself back on her feet, the duo reeled back with surprise as a prickling shock of energy burst from their hands and traveled down their arms.

What happened following the shockwave terrified both leader and comrade.

With ear-piercing yells, Aulora collapsed on her knees, holding her head tightly in pain. She scrunched her eyelids tighter together as she continued to yell out in pain, her head burning like it had ignited with flames. It pounded as an intensity of voices crashed against the sides of her head and screamed in her ears.

_"You_ are _a fool!_   _How could you possible believe yourself worthy!?"_  

Aulora watched as her vision was clouded over by smoky atmosphere, scattered with large, gleaming towers. Suddenly they were eaten by flames and the towers turned a sickly red as they crumbled to the ground below.

_"You have failed, Orion!_   _You are a disgrace to the matrix!"_  

Her vision went deathly black as her ears staggered in pain at the sound of a female's heart-wrenching scream of agony. Her voice was carried on waves of excruciating pain, as she called out for help, echoing across Aulora's head.

_"Cybertron is gone!_   _You have failed all Cybertronians!"_  

Her vision flashed back to a dark place, covered in smoke. Soon, the fog lifted to reveal the ground completely covered with Cybertronian bodies, their bodies and limbs twisted and mutalated. The ground beneath was now stained blue from their spilled Energon.

The voices continued to scream at her, as mind started playing scene after scene of what he finally realized to be a fallen Cybertron.

Desolated cities, fallen soldiers…it was all Cybertron.

Optimus clenched his fingers and palms around his head, hoping something would stop the flashes of pictures that played across his brain…and the screams that tore across his ears.

_"Mom! Mom, can you hear me!?"_  

A wall of flames erupted across Optimus's vision, as he listened to a series of sharp coughs, almost able to smell the deathly smoke the voice was choking on.

_"Dad, are you ok?_   _Dad, are you there!?"_  

The voice continued to scream out in desperate agony as the flames grew higher and brighter. He suddenly realized a sharp pain in his leg, as a heavy weight seemed to be crushing it down to the ground.

_"Aunt Lorelei! Please, say something! ANYTHING!"_

This time the scream was excruciatingly loud, followed by loud sobs that ripped at Optimus's spark. The screams were filled with pain and helplessness, as they continued to call out, the heat of the fire now burning his skin.

_"PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP THEM! THEY'RE GOING TO DIE!"_

And just as quickly as the tormenting flashbacks had started, they quickly vanished from their victims, leaving Optimus and Aulora distorted with raw pain and fear.

They slowly opened their eyes, opening their senses to the outside world.

Their trampled and sore ears slowly detected Ratchet's voice beside them.

"Optimus, Aulora, can you hear me? Are you alright?" he continued to ask.

Aulora remained on her knees heavily breathing, trying desperately to remedy her spastic heart.

She could slowly pick up Raf and Jack's voice beside her, and then sensed a pair of hands on her shoulders, but her mind was still recuperating, still trying to desperately make sense of what had just happened; what had just mutilated her brain.

Optimus still hand one hand clasped tightly around the side of his head, slowly letting his brain fall back into place, back where it had been before. The pain had now subsides to a dull soreness, but nothing could change what he had just saw.

What had he just saw?

Though he had forgotten many memories over the years, he was certain those were not his.

They didn't…feel like his.

They were foreign.

And as Team Prime huddled desperately around their friends, trying to find out if they were alright, completely shocked by the scene they had just seen, Optimus and Aulora slowly peeled open their eyes and turned to look at each other, a solid, complete thought finally forming in their shattered minds.

_They had been inside each others' heads._

 


	4. Mental Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate of A Shooting Star: Unveiling the Impossible  
> Mental Notes
> 
> For Aulora, returning to Jasper, Nevada isn't just simply re-opening old wounds. It's bringing her back to her family she left behind so many years ago; back to Team Prime. And as she rejoins the Autobots, her world is catapulted off balance by the loss of a dear friend, and the discovery of an innate power very much alive.

"I…I don't know."

Both Prime and human turned toward the stammering medic.

"Look, I'm a trained field medic, not some mad-scientist! I wasn't even aware mental conversation was possible if it was not between the bond of a twin or a spark-mate," Ratchet explained, defensively waving his hands in front of him.

Optimus turned down to the small human who was perched rather perplexed upon the edge of the medical berth.

Her rigid legs were pulled up to her chin as she rocked with uncertainty upon her heels. Her eyes were trained on the floor.

She had never looked at him again.

She had not said a word since the encounter.

Truthfully, the young mech did not find himself remotely close to blaming her.

He, at the present moment, did not feel at a great mood for conversation.

What was there to talk about?

There was no word known to the Prime, Cybertronian or English, that could sum what had recently happened.

It was a pain he had never experienced, accompanied by visions he had never dreamt he would see.

Even after the incident, hours after Aulora and himself had immediately rested, completely exhausted and drained from the grueling experience, he could still see the images when he closed his eyes. The atmosphere would grow dark, and the flashbacks would continue, each varying in time, people, places and sound. If he did not concentrate on any voice around him, his ears would be violently plagued once more by the echo of screams and shouts…and cries.

It was a nightmare he could not shake.

But whom he pitied was Aulora.

What had she seen in his mind?

He could not even fathom the depths his mind had taken her, and felt guilty for the pain and memories she could've uncovered.

But suddenly, what strangled his heart dry at that moment, was pure and utter fear.

His mind, once a stable and guarded fortress, one that could never be shaken, had now been invaded.

Secrets…memories he tucked delicately back under the folds of his immense mind were pushed so far back, he found even himself at times could not find them.

But Aulora…may just have.

"I have never encountered anything like this in my life," Ratchet commented, rubbing his chin intensely as his eyes jumped from Aulora to Optimus, and then back again.

He had never heard of such a feat performed between simple acquaintances, aside from the fact they were completely different species.

"I know of one possible theory, but under such circumstances, it deems it rather unlikely."

The young human and medic both turned to look at the Autobot leader.

"What is it?" Ratchet asked.

"Alpha Trion did explain to me once, millennium ago, that among the 12 original Primes, suspicions were circulating of a possible traitor, many of them gathering around the Fallen, who was absent a great deal of the time," Optimus began.

"Prima, the leader of the 12 original Primes was made known to these suspicions and began to worry his orders and conversations amongst the other Primes would offer the defector knowledge that could be used against them. So, as a result, in a final effort to combat the possibility of a conspirator among the group, Prima created the Telonian connection. It created the effect of a split spark and mind, even greater a force than a telepathic bond, such as a spark-mate or twin would possess. He would share this connection with another well trusted Prime, in order to pass on his knowledge, somehow, to his followers without alerting the Fallen. He would also be able to watch his followers, who had broken off and started to construct a new civilization. The Prime was Alpha Trion, and the two were able to converse within their minds to each other, none of the other Primes ever possessing an inkling of what was commencing between the two. Of course their efforts were not only too late, but useless by that point, but the connection still withstood. But, as I said before, the circumstances at this moment would not stand in favor of the Telonian connection," Optimus explained.

"True, but it is the only logical explanation. You two clearly are not spark-mates, nor are you twins. It is possible, however, Optimus that you were bestowed the Telonian gift after receiving the Matrix of Leadership, which was previously owned by Prima. It's possible he programmed the ability through the Matrix…which would explain why you can use it now," Ratchet hypothesized.

"But how does it succeed in Aulora's mind. Mind you she does not possess a Matrix, nor is she a Cybertronian. She has an organic mind, one I cannot fathom the ability to possess a mental connection with biological technology, such as ourselves," Optimus asked.

Optimus and Ratchet were suddenly pulled from their deep conversation to the small human who was putting her arms up in surrender.

"Look, I apologize for interrupting. I do appreciate you guys trying to figure this out…and everything, but if it means the same to you, I'm going to go home now," Aulora said, slowly slipping her completely worn out body off of the large, metal berth.

"I do agree that rest, at this moment, is best to alleviate the pain, but you still require a guardian to escort you home," Ratchet commented, arms folded with concern across his chest.

"I will accompany you home, Aulora," Optimus offered.

Aulora shook her hands in refusal, her eyes wide with fear.

"No, no. Thank you, Optimus…but, uhm…I'll just catch a ride with Arcee. I know she'll be heading out soon to drop Jack off," she responded quietly, her voice warbling with weariness.

The young human suddenly no longer felt safe with the team's leader.

No…she felt far from safe.

 

* * *

 

 

_"A Telonian connection!? I thought that ability died along with Prima?!"_

_"It appears it hasn't."_

_"And what of the young girl? How is she able to use it?"_

_"She is lying! She is hiding something of great importance! I was right to believe she wasn't trustworthy!"_

_"That doesn't matter! She doesn't deserve the Telonian connection! Such a prestigious and honorable gift…bestowed to an organic creature!?"_

_"He is right! A creation so magnificent is not worthy of a human child! This was a gift of the greatest of Primes!"_

_"We were not worthy enough for such a gift and suddenly a filthy pest is!? She cannot be trusted!"_

_"No, she is a traitor!"_

_"Yes, a traitor! She is manipulating Optimus!"_

_"She cannot be greater than we are! She must be stopped!"_

_"She is not a Prime, and thus does not belong in his mind!"_

_"She must be stopped!"_

Aulora awoke with a start, yelping in pain as her saliva-coated cheek was ripped horrifically from the tin can her head had been resting on. She gently massaged her sore cheek with one hand as she slowly collected herself up from the floor, the old newspapers crunching beneath her with every move.

She remembered stumbling off of Arcee, back into her house, and had tossed about her bed for a solid hour.

But fear overweighed the amount of sleep that had settled in her body; the fear of closing her eyes and watching, and hearing, those horrific images. So, she had settled with painting her living room walls as a nice 2 am project, and was prepping the area around the first wall when she must've fallen asleep.

She realized her paint brush was still clutched tightly in her grip and she slowly unlatched her fingers from it, letting it clang to the floor, the sound resonating throughout the bare, empty house.

The echo seemed to penetrate to her soul, reverberating off of its numb walls.

That wasn't a nightmare.

No, it was real.

She had been inside Optimus's head.

Those were the same voices she heard before.

There were so many.

So many different people…or Cybertronians, rather.

So…she had dreamt about what was happening in Optimus's head.

She took a mental note of that.

Being that neither Optimus nor Ratchet could offer any solid diagnostic of this…mind-language, she realized it was up to her to make her own observations of it.

So far, it had only happened when she had bumped into Optimus and when she was asleep. So maybe physical touch and sleep are maybe some type of focal points for the language; points where it has the most strength or something. Also, while her encounter into Optimus's thoughts had been painful the first time, it didn't hurt at all just moments before. It almost seemed…natural.

So maybe, overall, it wasn't supposed to hurt.

Maybe when she touched Optimus, the connection might've been…like…activated, and that's what hurt.

Or maybe she just got lucky this one time, and every other encounter would be just as painful as the first.

She rubbed her still groggy head.

How was she so relaxed about this?

She couldn't understand how.

An alien robot now had the opportunity to probe and prod every inch of her brain, and read every thought that was playing across her brain. That wasn't a normal puberty change. There was no instruction manual down at the bookstore, or an old retirement home resident who could relay their experiences to her.

This had never happened before.

Not even the aliens who created it could offer any solid explanations. That should be scaring her right now. It would have any other normal human going completely insane. Yet, there she sat on the empty, barren ground of her family room, listening as the dry, January wind howled against her windows and rattled her shutters, making a mental list of each detail of the mind-read.

She finally settled with the theory that the overall idea of having Optimus Prime in her head, and her in his, had not hit her yet.

It scared her though of when it would.

 

* * *

 

 

The raven-haired boy slid into his seat, just as the overhead bell rang.

He turned toward the front of the room and grumbled to himself, realizing there was no need to rush to his first class when Mr. Baxley, a sub loved dearly by the student body, would not only not bother with taking attendance, but would most likely stay seated in the desk's swivel chair, his large, thick rimmed glasses perched on his large nose, reading whatever science-fiction novel he had brought with him this class for the rest of the period. The rest of the class had realized this too, and were already flipping out their cell phones, talking amongst each other.

He chuckled as he glanced over at his next door neighbor who appeared fast asleep, her head cuddled in her arms.

He eyed her unoccupied black pen deviously and was already reaching over to grab it when her mumbled voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Don't even think about it, Jackson Darby," she grumbled, though with her usual, sweet voice.

"How do you know if I was going to do something bad?" he chuckled, slouching back in his chair to look at Aulora, as she slowly turned her head to him and opened her eyes.

"Because I know you, Jack. You're always up to something," she said, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Yeah, but just because I'm up to something doesn't mean it's always bad," he reasoned as he slowly produced a small, ice latte from behind his back. He laughed as Aulora's blood-shot eyes widened with pure excitement.

"You didn't," she gasped, immediately perking up as Jack pulled out a straw as well and poked it into the center.

He playfully shrugged. "I had to stop in and pick up my paycheck. Eddie, the new guy, screwed up on a latte and tried pawning it off on me because he couldn't get anyone to buy it," he answered, holding out the drink to her.

Aulora's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Screwed it up, how?" she asked warily.

"He used caramel instead of chocolate, and the customer wouldn't take it," he replied, handing the frigid drink to Aulora.

She took it, and closed her eyes in ecstasy as she took a large sip of the drink. "Jack Darby, you are my life-saver," she said, in between gulps.

His smile faded, and his eyes laced over with concern. "Another rough night, huh?" he asked.

She nodded. "I forgot how windy winter nights are out here in Jasper. Sounds like I have a pack of wolves outside my house," she joked.

That was a complete lie.

Though the rest of the team had been slowly informed of Optimus and Aulora's new abilities over the past few days, the sympathetic glances from her team members, to Aulora's relief, never suspected her to have nightmares of Optimus's thoughts or memories. She knew if they did, she wouldn't be able to stand the pity they would constantly relish her with, as if she could bear it now. When asked how she was faring, which thankfully for her wasn't often, being that fact the subject itself was a little foreign and touchy to bring up, she simply shrugged it off, replying that other than that freak encounter, she hadn't heard or seen anything from Optimus's mind.

This reassured the team of the possibility that the encounter was simply that; freak.

But she knew she couldn't pull the off the lack-of-sleep for long.

She always had nightmares.

That, in itself, was not new to her.

However, the complete deprivation of sleep was. Normally, she'd wake up covered in sweat and her heart beating straight forth from her chest. But she would just shake it off, sometimes grab a glass of water, untangle her sheets and fall right back to sleep. Not being able to close her eyes at night or rest her ears for fear of memories or thoughts so strong they surpassed her own…that was not only foreign, but unwelcomed. Though she continued to have her old nightmares, the ones she had before reuniting with Team Prime, Optimus's thoughts were now added to the mix, and her new mild case of insomnia continued.

Jack nodded with understanding. A few minutes of silence lapsed between the two Autobot allies as Aulora gracefully chugged the cool, sugary liquid.

"So, how do like Jasper High so far?" he asked. She shifted her eyes from the drink to look at him, and smiled.

"It's kind of funny to see everyone so much…bigger. They're still themselves, just in a taller body. Terry's still playing pranks against the teachers. Tracey's still wheelin'-and-dealin' goods. Only her inventory's upgraded from Sharpies to pot. And Vince is still…"

"Vince," Jack and Aulora finished simultaneously, laughing.

"Yeah, that big goof hasn't changed a bit," Jack responded, watching as the said red-haired bully began flicking paper airplanes over to the cheerleader group to get their attention.

"Some people never change," Aulora commented.

Jack turned to look over Aulora, who was already lost in her drink once again, and realized how true her words were.

Though he had a brief encounter with the shy girl years ago, her timid, gentle demeanor had stayed with her over all of this time.

She always spoke quietly, almost hesitant of the words that would fall from her mouth. She displayed a shy demeanor, shoulders very subtly scooped down and inward, as if to possibly hide herself from the outside world. Though she argued her hair was too messy to worry about continually fixing it, the young boy knew better.

She was hiding behind her hair. It seemed that the less of her face was visible the safer she was.

She was always gentle, the fact alone clearly present in her intoxicatingly pale blue eyes, swimming with a soothing calmness. She never grew angry, outwardly at least. If she was, she would display it as mild agitation and play it off as if she was simply joking. She always apologized after saying or doing something she feared, somehow, would offend anyone, which was quite often. However, underneath that tentative, apprehensive, shy personality, Aulora's soul shook fierce with astounding wisdom and compassion Jack was slowly starting to discover.

She seemed to care deeply for everyone and everything, as if upon immediate introduction, they had already won the keys to her large and fluffy heart.

The ideas that she was able to comprehend, and the advice she was always willing to share almost scared the tall dark-haired boy sometimes.

He only believed people such as Optimus possessed knowledge such as that, and even then he was astounded at what the leader would voice sometimes.

And slowly, a smile formed on Jack's lips.

It was clear she was a great addition to the team.

With a hyper-active, spunky punk star and her strong willed, rough-and-tough dune bashing buddy, a young science genius/tech wizard and his equally young, protective, need-for-speed guardian, a plain, over-worked, mama's boy teenager and his go-to, front-liner motorcycle, a grouchy field medic with anger management problems and a solitude, all-powerful leader, it seemed Team Prime needed a down-to-earth, humble girl who would be able to keep all of them grounded when the time came.

 

* * *

 

 

She stared up at the large, now blue spot, almost a scary contrast to the blood red behind it.

She leaned tiredly against the stacked cans of light, baby blue paint she had purchased at the local hard-ware store for the remainder of the house.

She took another big gulp of Gatorade, a last-minute purchase she had also made at the hard-ware store before heading with Bumblebee back to her house, along with a thick, bright yellow, spiral notebook that was on the clearance rack for 50 cents.

She was plagued with her mother's impulsive spending habits.

She smiled to herself, amusement playing in her heart as she remembered Bumblebee blaring through his radio stations, both of them singing haphazardly to any familiar song that blasted through his speakers.

The young bot was a blast to hang out with, and through her new-found friendship with the young scout, she found herself befriending Raf as well. Though very intelligent, Raf was still a kid, and constantly reminded Aulora with his avid video game playing and cartoon watching, with the Autobot scout right by his side.

They were the perfect duo.

She inspected her painting once more. She had almost finished the wall she had started last night. All that was left to do was to touch up the areas around the white crown-molding and the edges of the stairs, already eyeing up the royal blue paint tape sitting idly on the newspaper.

She shrugged; might as well.

For the first time that night, she chanced a look down at her phone's clock.

1:30.

Half of her mind yelled at her with astonishment, reprimanding her for staying up so late, and ordered her back up to her small cot in her room, not yet having purchased a bed, and to try and get some sleep. But the other half of her mind won as she reached down to unwrap the tape and began sticking it along the edges.

What was she going to do…try and fall asleep?

She laughed out loud to herself.

A thought suddenly occurred to her, and she reached over for the yellow notebook, grabbing the black pen from her backpack that she had seated right beside her, being practically the only thing she had unpacked. She opened the notebook to the first, clean sheet. She grabbed the pen and began to write.

**Theories of New Telepathy Abilities, Possibly a Telonian Connection? (See 2nd page for summary)**

**-occurs uncontrollably and "naturally" when sleeping or upon physical touch (possibly the strong points for the connection)**

**-first occurrence: physical touch: head throb, eye and ear stinging, followed by flashes of images of Cybertron (most likely PTSD flashbacks) and multiple voices, one female voice in particular**

**-second occurrence: dreaming: no pain or agitation, a series of voices sounding as if they were conversing amongst each other, referring to Optimus as "Orion" and believe I am not worthy of this "language" nor am I trustworthy (it appears the voices are possibly jealous for their lack of opportunity with said mental connection)**

**-due to fear of reoccurring nightmares of these particular thoughts and voices, I have not had more than a 3 hour sleep, at night, in a few days (I find that sleeping during the day is easier than at night)**

**-no images, voices or memories have occurred during my daytime sleep (still have not assessed an explanation for that)**

**-still no solid explanation of why…**

 


	5. Food For Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate of A Shooting Star: Unveiling the Impossible  
> Food For Thought

"So whacha crammin' for Jack Rabbit?" Miko asked, bumping her shoulder into the pre-occupied teenager, as he continued to mouth the words on the page to himself, as the Autobot allies continued to make their way down the hallway.

"History," he spurted out quickly, never once removing his eyes from the review packet.

Aulora, Jack and Miko walked out of the main entrance, taking their usual spots along the front staircase, waiting for the small, navy school van to drop off Raf for the few math and computer classes he took at the high school in the afternoon. Miko stretched herself out on the wall lining the stair case, Aulora sat with a book perched in her hands, facing the road, while Jack leaned against the railing, eyes glued to the papers in front of him.

"Why worry about history, dude!? It's not like that stuff matters," Miko replied, leaning against the wall of the school with her hands crossed leisurely behind her head.

"I wanna graduate, Miko," Jack scoffed, finally looking up from the papers in his hand to throw a glare at the 14 year old.

"Dude, you're only a sophomore! You can chill it!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air, only to throw them lazily behind her head again.

"Well, I'd be able to "chill it" right now if someone hadn't decided to make a break through the 'bridge last night…again," Jack chastised, tightly gripping his loose papers as another gust of dry wind blew across the school.

"Why ya' blamin' me!? I didn't ask you to follow me!" Miko argued, jumping off of her seat on the staircase wall to face the 16 year old.

"What were we going to do?! Let you run straight out into the battlefield!? It's suicidal!" Jack exclaimed, letting his papers and hands fall to his sides as he too faced the spunky 8th grader.

"It's called snapping some pics, and last time I checked, that didn't require a babysitter," she snapped back at him, slowly closing the distance between the two.

"We're not babysitting you, we're making sure you don't go and get yourself hurt!" Jack threw back.

"Unless your name is Bulkhead or Optimus, you're not supposed to worry about my safety!" Miko exclaimed.

Aulora criss-crossed her legs and took another look around the front quad, internally releasing a breath when she found no possible spectators watching the two squabble, simply two empty soda cans that continued to patter along the sidewalk with each new gust of wind that whipped across the dry, brown lawn. The sky was pale grey, as it had been all month. It wasn't supposed to rain, not that it ever did. But the grey sky and dry wind was a normal winter in Jasper; gloomy.

She turned her eyes back to her book, ready to delve back into her fantasy world of romance that she had been brutally ripped forth from after joining the two teenagers during lunch, reminded that Miko never stopped talking.

It wasn't that the slash-monkey fan was full of herself, far from it actually. Normally, when she opened her mouth, it was either to praise her large guardian, ask somebody a question about themselves, or simply, loudly, announce the apparent "awesomeness" in any situation. She left no comment unspoken. And the shy Aulora was almost addicted to her courageousness, with admiration beyond words.

And as Aulora scanned over another sentence in Nicholas Sparks' novel, she discovered that the argument behind her would not allow some peace to read.

"We're your friends, Miko! We're supposed to look out for each other!" Jack reasoned, feeling his point was helplessly falling to the ground.

"Ugh! You don't get it! Aulora, can you explain it better!?" Jack exclaimed, looking to the 15 year old still seated on the front steps for help. She looked up to the sidewalk and waited a few seconds before responding.

"The purpose of human life is to serve, and to show compassion and the will to help others. However, you can't help people that don't want to be helped," the teen answered quietly.

Miko and Jack looked at the teenager, with faces scowled in complete and utter confusion.

"Albert Schweitzer and John Armstrong," Aulora added, believing their names would clarify the subject that seemed to be causing the silence of confusion.

Miko and Jack groaned out loud, Jack slapping a hand to his forehead.

"That didn't help, Aulora," Jack complained, shaking his head.

"What does that even mean!?" Miko asked.

The two watched the back of Aulora's shoulders as the slowly twitched up into a shrug.

"Just food for thought," she responded politely.

Miko and Jack moaned, simultaneously, out-loud, once more. If Jack was at a loss for words before, Aulora's quotes had completely thrown him further off course. All three turned to the sound of tires screeching, as they watched the familiar van with faded, yellow writing, pull up alongside the front sidewalk, watching as Raf opened the door and climbed out of the passenger seat.

"Look, I know your Mom's over-protective, but that doesn't mean you have to be the warden around us, too," Miko added, turning back to her opponent, pointing an accusing finger at him.

"What does my Mom have anything to do with this!? You know what, forget it, Miko! Next time, I'll just let you run right into the line of fire and let you get blown to bits!" Jack furiously exclaimed.

"Fine!" Miko shouted.

"Fine!" Jack responded, just as loud.

And with that, the two stormed back into the school, Jack continuing straight down the main hallway, and Miko making a sharp left towards the music room, just as the final bell of lunch sounded overhead.

Aulora smiled out to the small 12 year old as he made his way to the front steps.

"What's wrong with Jack and Miko?" he asked, keeping step with Aulora as they turned to walk back into the school.

"Right now, Raf, there making you look as mature as an adult," she answered.

 

* * *

 

 

The young 30 year old looked out to her class in front of her, waiting and watching as her last statement settled in their minds, their emotions playing with deep concentration.

She stood up and walked up to the front of her desk, where she let her tall, nimble body lean against it. She pulled her deep blue cardigan further over her chest and habitually folded her arms across her chest. A small smirk twitched across her evenly, perfectly sculpted facial features as her class turned towards her, waiting expectantly for her next statement.

Trained ears, she remembered her mother calling them.

Students with trained ears were good students, those who continually waited and watched for the teacher's commands, never falling stray from those set of orders. They did what they were told, and her mother reminded her to expect good things from them.

But that was it; good things.

If she was to expect _great_  things, to be blessed with the chance to see a legend flourish before her eyes, it was the eyes she had to watch. Those with trained ears had trained eyes, always looking expectantly forward at the speaker before them.

Those with ignorant ears had ignorant eyes, those were easy to distinguish as well.

But it was the ears that were listening to her and their thoughts and the eyes that were filled with millions of other thoughts that her mother had reminded her where greatness was found.

And it was to Ms. Bishop's great and genuine surprise that her eyes fell upon a student, only one, who deemed to fit her mother's guidelines of greatness.

She watched as said student's eyes stayed trained on her, but were filled with so much more than the subject at hand. They were wide and wonderful, over-pouring with curiosity, but painted ever so intricately with a burning fire of pure intelligence and understanding. She had the eyes of someone who had experienced everything, from the beginning of human civilization to every great war and every great victory, and back again. They looked as if they had already lived life once, and right now was…unexpected.

Beneath everything her eyes held, there was one question Ms. Bishop could see written as clearly as the stack of idle essays on her desks; who am I.

The young student, who had seemed to have sunken deeper into her back corner seat, was trying to figure out just what made her… _her_. She was completely intrigued by this student ever since she had started. Though she had only had the privilege of having her for a short week so far, Ms. Bishop knew that her mother was right; with eyes like that, the only thing to expect from this particular student was nothing short of greatness.

"With winter vacation arriving soon, I've decided to assign a project," Ms. Bishop started, smiling as she heard the accustomed chorus of moans and groans.

"Yes, yes I know how much you love projects, so I've decided to personalize this one a little more. As we read Charles Marlow's journey of self-discovery, I want you all to do a little self-reflecting as well. And so the theme for this project is simply "Who Am I?" In a well-written essay, of whatever format and style you want, I want you to write about you. Just you and everything about you. And hopefully, through these essays we'll be able to do a little self-discovery of our own," Ms. Bishop explained.

She was followed quickly by the bell, and she watched with curiosity as her student, destined for greatness, waited patiently for everyone to exit. It didn't appear as if she was avoiding them, but rather she was simply…afraid of them. She was timid of these strong, free-thinking spirits.

"Aulora!"

Ms. Bishop turned to a small boy who had appeared at the doorway, waving to said student frantically, rushing her along.

And Ms. Bishop turned and watched as the most beautiful of smiles lit up the young student's face at the sight of her small friend. Whatever the young boy meant to her, whatever their connection, the young student's smile held a deeper meaning than simple recognition. No, what she seemed to lack between herself and the rest of the class was evident in her friendship with this young boy. It was the state of belonging. Whatever she did with this small boy, whatever her life was like outside of the classroom, the teacher could tell it was big. Something she knew she herself couldn't comprehend. But that was ok. For now, all she expected was greatness.

 

* * *

 

 

"So are Bumblebee and I taking you home?" Raf asked as the pair made their way down the hallway, habitually leaning in and out of the way of incoming students, never seeming to notice the two walking right in their path.

"Yeah, I kind of got banned from Bulkhead," Aulora sheepishly replied, throwing the small boy a guilty smile.

"What!? What you do?" Raf asked, a large open grin spreading across his face, knowing it took a lot to irritate the large Wrecker.

"I uh…I turned on the classical music station on the way to school yesterday," she replied, with a small smile.

"No! Aulora, you didn't!? You pretty much just broke Bulkhead's one and only rule," Raf laughed, playfully slapping his forehead.

"I know but Frank Patrick's was doing a rendition of Mozart's Symphony 9 and I just had to tune in," she replied with a meek smile.

"Miko must've spontaneously combust," Raf replied, giggling.

"She was definitely on the verge," Aulora replied, which sent the young boy into another fit of laughter.

The two suddenly perked their eyes up at the sound of Raf's name. Their eyes fell upon a large, strongly built red- head, his face painted with intense freckles and his green eyes squinting with smug victory, as if he already knew he had captured the bird in the cage.

"Hey buddy," Vince said with fake innocence, throwing his arms around Raf and pulling him in tight, "how yah doin'?"

Aulora stared down nervously at the 12 year old as his face coated over with obvious fear, and he tried, with no success, to wiggle his way out of Vince's tight grip.

"So, I was wonderin' if I could have that math test of yours. I just couldn't study and I know my little genius here," he said, giving Raf a little shake beneath his grip, "got and A on it. So whadya say?" he asked, peering down at Raf's bulging eyes beneath his glasses. Raf timidly shook his head, his mouth not able to produce any words.

"No? See, that wasn't the answer I was lookin' for," Vince said, the phony innocence wiping clear from his voice, replaced with a threatening tone and equally dangerous eyes.

Vince suddenly stumbled back with surprise as the student who had been walking with Raf before quickly squeezed her way between the two. She wrapped her hand behind her and tightly gripped Raf's shoulder, making sure to keep him behind her as she looked up into the approaching bully's face. He was about as tall, but much bulkier than Jack, which made him all the more intimidating to the thin, 5' 2" girl.

Vince's smug smile just grew bigger.

"Well, well, Aulora. Everyone said you had come back, but I just had to see it for myself," he answered, leaning with his hand stretched out to the lockers, bringing his face mere inches from Aulora's.

"Haven't change a bit now, have yah," he said, giving her a once over.

Aulora suddenly yelped in surprise as Vince reached out to grab her wrist and slammed her against the lockers, his face right in front of hers, blocking her view of anything around her. She could feel tears welling up inside of her throat as his grip tightened around her wrist, his rough, strong fingers digging into her raw, burnt skin. Her red skin, wrinkled thoroughly with the Dark Energon burns, stung with intense pain beneath their bandages and jacket sleeve.

"Whyda' come back? Huh? I mean, I know you missed me but…why?" he asked sarcastically, his eyes zoning in on her squirming ones, trying to fixate their stare on something other than his face. Her mouth quivered with fear and intimidation, as she tried to weakly wiggle her arm out of his grip. Her eyes suddenly squinted with pain as he gripped her arms tighter against the locker.

"Came here to finally see your family's graves? I know you skipped out on their funeral," he whispered with cruel playfulness.

"Vince come on, we gotta get to class," one of his buddies called out behind him. He dropped his grip around Aulora's arm and stepped back from her, still keeping his eyes on her, still smiling smugly. Raf rushed up to her, as she crouched against the lockers, tentatively holding her arm and gently rubbing away the pain. He nodded his head to her and winked.

"See you around, McAllister," he called back, as he walked down the hallway, disappearing into the crowd. Raf and Aulora watched him until he disappeared, the mass of kids swallowing him back up into their folds and continuing on their routes to class, never once looking up to behold the bully and his shy victim, braced against lockers.

 

* * *

 

 

Optimus's eyes followed the characters of data that filled up the screen in front of him, following their calculated path from left to right, never looking up or around him.

After reading and identifying the data, his rigid fingers quickly typed in a response, a note to himself for future references, and then he moved on to the next one. He kept his firm stance in front of the main computers, never outwardly displaying any signs of exhaustion, agitation or boredom as he continued to sift through the unorganized data the computer had collected over Team Prime's numerous excursions. He would leave a few notes if the team ever needed to relay back to the data.

It was quiet afternoon, the team settling in for the evening after a few, grueling missions in an attempt to acquire more Energon, and the leader was left alone with himself, as Ratchet had been sifting through old medical stocks in the back storage closest for more supplies.

And as his fingers flew once against over the key board, the young mech could not help but well up with the pleasure of familiarity, the easy memories of his life as an archivist swimming back to him. They were glorious days in the mech's eyes, truly living out his passion, surrounded by millions of data pads, files and written material, the act of writing itself long abandoned by the advancing society. His eyes saddened of the sheer length of time that had passed since Orion Pax's daily shifts at the Hall of Records.

It seemed as if the memories themselves had belonged to a different mech. Optimus was simply watching from a far away perspective. And in a sense he was, being that Orion Pax was almost altogether abandoned after he received the Matrix of Leadership and gained the designation of Optimus Prime. But it was moments like these where the Autobot Leader couldn't help but mourn over the loss of simplicity and content in his life.

Being Orion Pax was easy.

Being Orion Pax was…being himself.

The young mech suddenly unclasped his gaze from the screen to let it travel down to his right arm. Beneath his armor, it suddenly felt as if small needles of fire had ignited all along his wrist and stopped a few feet short of his elbow joint. His optics were scrunched in complete bafflement as the pain began to intensify. But what startled him the most was an apparent weight that had settled upon his hands, almost directly above where the pain was flourishing. Amongst the pure agony, the grumbling mech was able to detect a certain shape to the weight. It was not all evenly proportioned over his arm, and it appeared neither was the burning discomfort. It concentrated under one large mass, and then spread out from the mass in 5 separate strings…like a servo and its digits.

Someone was grabbing his arm, but of course another glance down at his limb solidified the idea that he must've been imagining something.

But it felt so real.

He could feel his own armor throb with an intense burning sensation, as if someone was tampering with a wound that had already started to heal. It felt as if they were ripping it back open. But, as swift as the pain had collided into his appendage, it slowly whispered away, washing the fire away to leave a dull ache. The confused leader stretched his arm out in front of him, checking over his preliminary body sensors to confirm that his body was functioning at moderate capacity, with no possible breach of any type of virus or infection.

So then, what? What had caused the horrible stinging sensation? For simply confirmation of…the young leader could not explain, he reached down and tentatively grazed his fingers over his forearm.

It was there, as he had expected.

The Autobot leader was just about to turn around and find his trusted medic, and possibly inquire of his recent…episode, his feet already turning around in the other direction, when a thought so abrupt and heavy hit him, he was startled he had not thought of the possibility before.

His mind was relaying that recent experience.

It was transferring it from Aulora.

 

* * *

 

 

As the last period of the day ended, and the final bell had already resonated across Jasper High's halls, students were hurriedly grabbing their last remaining contents from their lockers and heading out to the courtyard all splitting up into their separate ways.

Suddenly, a brightly-dressed pink pig-tailed girl came sprinting down the science wall, catching herself as she slipped on the tile floor making a clumsy stop in front of her locker. She stood on her tip-toes, searching over the few scattered teenagers still in the high school, peering down the hallways for her friends, as her heavily beating chest began to catch up with itself. Taking another glance down the math wing, her eyes lit up with urgency, as she quickly beckoned a small spiked-hair boy, followed closely by a tall, raven-haired teenager, as they ran towards her.

"Come on, guys! Let's go!" she called out to them.

Raf stopped just beside Miko, hunching over to place his hands on his thighs as he slowly rested from his flight up the stairs. The raven boy turned to his attention to the main hallway as Aulora sprinted with incredible speed down the hallway, gracefully avoiding the loitering students scattered about the path. She came to an equally graceful stop, without a bead of sweat seen or hair out of place. It didn't even look like she had ran from the other side of the high school.

"Did you get Ratchet's call!?" she asked urgently, eyes wide with worry.

Raf gave a meager thumbs up to the girl, as he continued to pant.

"Yeah, we all got it," Jack confirmed, as he already seem to be making his way back down the math hallway. Aulora stood there puzzled, as she saw Miko and Raf start to hurriedly follow him.

"Wait! Where are you guys going?" she called out, jogging to catch up with them.

"You heard Ratchet. There's no one at base to pick us up, so we have to be bridged back to man the controls while we cover for Ratchet while he's out in the field," Raf explained.

"Ok, so then where are we going?" Aulora asked again, watching confused as the group made their way down the steps to the gymnasium.

"You know what I don't get? How Doc Bot's now got a ticket in on the action, but I don't! I can totally throw a better punch than he can!" Miko exclaimed demonstrating as she threw her hands into fists and dealt a few blows to the air directly above Raf's head. Jack threw Miko a quick glare as he held the boys' locker door open for the gang.

Aulora stopped just before the entrance, watching with complete confusion as Miko leisurely walked straight in after Raf.

"Oh no! I'm not going in until someone tells me…" But Aulora's sentence was cut off as Miko shot her hand back, grabbed Aulora by the collar of her jacket and pulled her in. Jack took a few skeptical glances around the deserted hallway, before closing the door behind him.

The teenager smirked as he found Miko trying to desperately pull Aulora out from the entrance hallway to the main room of lockers, as she struggled to pull herself away from Miko's grasp, her eyes scrunched tight.

"Miko, there could be naked boys in there," Aulora argued.

"Aulora you're fine. They closed these locker rooms down a few years ago. There're new ones up beside the track field. That's the one the basketball and volleyball teams are using right now," Jack explained, gently pushing the wide-eyed teen into the dimly lit room.

Before them were 4, thin benches arranged in a square, followed by 5 even rows of about a dozen lockers per row. The navy paint on the lockers was faded and chipped, and had been replaced by an array of spray paint colors, every inch of the walls and lockers seemingly covered with graffiti writing.

"Oh," Aulora simply stated, watching as the rest of the Autobot allies stopped in front of a locker in the first row that was covered with the red and black "uc" of "suck." However, as Aulora stepped closer, her eyes creased with shock as she spotted a small, red Autobot symbol that had been sloppily painted and smeared on the bottom right corner of the locker. Miko followed her eyes and proudly smiled.

"I painted that last month," she boasted, looking with pride on at the palm size symbol.

Jack opened the locker door, and Aulora couldn't help but gasp as the grey, metal surface lit up with the familiar swirling, electric waves of blues and greens. She watched as Raf climbed into the locker and disappeared into the ground bridge, closely followed by Miko, who made a daring leap from the ground into the bridge. Jack placed his hand out in front of him.

"After you," he said with an amusing smile, watching Aulora's fascination throughout the process. She climbed into the locker.

"Of course you guys have a secret locker," she laughed to herself, as she became swallowed up by the vortex. Jack followed, once again checking over his surroundings before closing the locker door behind him.

"What took you so long!? I am needed in the field, and you four decide to choose this particular moment to be slow." Aulora smiled as she could hear the medic's grumbling voice before the base had made it into her vision. When it did, she couldn't help but giggle at the sight of the field medic's hands crossed over his chest, sighing impatiently as Jack and Aulora finally made it through.

He quickly flipped a switch on the ground bridge controls, changing its designation to underground coordinates somewhere in the eastern section of Russia. He sped to the ground bridge, but stopped abruptly at its mouth, turning around to the humans with an accusing finger.

"If I contact base in a few clicks, and find out that every single one of you is not accounted for," he threatened, his eyes falling primarily on Miko and the newest member of their team, who had not yet experienced a mission first hand before, "I will see to it that you are tasked with chores that will make Cybertron's gladiatorial pits look appealing." And with that Ratchet disappeared into the vortex, Raf shutting it down, already seated in the swivel chair by the main computers on the raised level.

"So do you guys do that all the time?" Aulora asked, letting her school sack slide off her shoulder onto the small, yellow arm chair.

"Just when the bots are too busy to man the ground bridge," Raf replied from his swivel chair.

"So what are they doing that made them call us in?" Jack asked, as he and Aulora stood by Raf to peer up at the large screens above them.

"It looks like an Energon deposit. But there's too many raw materials in the rock to get a clear reading where the signature is coming from," Raf answered.

"Which is probably why they needed Ratchet," Jack reasoned, leaning casually against the railing behind him.

Raf watched Aulora as she lowered herself into another swivel chair beside him, his eyes falling on her fingers as, with her concentration diverted elsewhere, she released their grip around the edges of her jacket sleeve, revealing the white bandages covering her palms, wrists and fingers, and no doubt her arms beneath her sleeve.

Guilt slowly started to trickle into his unsettled stomach.

He had done nothing to stop Vince.

While he stood there, probably tearing apart Aulora's already damaged skin, Raf just rooted himself in place and stared open-mouthed at what was happening. He never made a run to grab a teacher, or tried pulling Vince away from the clearly terrified girl.

She had protected him, and what was the thanks she got for it; a probably swollen, already burnt arm.

Suddenly, the trio turned to familiar electric gust of wind of the ground bridge.

"The team's done already?" Jack asked, turning to stare at the activated portal.

"They can't access the ground bridge from where they are. Only I can," Raf replied.

"Um guys…look." Jack and Raf followed Aulora's finger to a long rope that had been lassoed around the manual controls on the ground level, reaching to about 3 feet off the ground.

"Ugh, Miko!" Raf exclaimed. He turned back to the screen, trying to get a fix on her cell phone signal.

He turned back to the two with a small shake of his head. "Her signals distorted. The Cons are probably messing with the frequencies," he explained, shakily, his hands flying across the keyboard of his laptop.

"Then we have to go in there! Miko doesn't know what she's getting herself into," Aulora said, already running down the steps to the ground bridge. She stopped short when she heard no footsteps behind her. She turned back around to find Jack still perched on the second level railing.

"Jack, come on. Let's go," she beckoned up to him, but her heart suddenly fell when she saw him make no move to get up.

"No. I'm done. Every time we try and save her, we get hounded for it. She knew the risks going in, so she clearly is alright with taking them," he answered.

Aulora stood there for a moment, closely observing the 16 year old. Though his body was completely rooted in place, it was easy to tell that his eyes were glazed over with concern, but seemingly it was not enough to counter the grudge that still clung to his stomach.

Aulora nodded firmly, confirming Jack's wishes. As she sped through the still open ground bridge, she turned her head back.

"Remember Jack, food for thought," she called back, just as she disappeared onto the other side, leaving Jack to sit with Raf, swimming deep within his own thoughts.

 

* * *

 

 

Miko frantically felt around the rough, jagged wall of the cave she had been cornered up against, hopelessly looking for the hidden levers or pulleys they put in caves like these in the movies.

No such luck.

She stood, completely frozen, looking up into the fiery red eyes of Decepticon drone, his blaster sizzling with energy. She watched helplessly as his large shadow loomed further and further over her, the Autobots nowhere in sight. The ground bridge had dumped her off in the center of a series of underground networks, each tunnel spurting off in different directions. As she made her way down a random tunnel, chosen from her methods of eannie meanie, she had bumped into a Decepticon trooper, and hastily turned back, running into yet another random tunnel, with the trooper close on her tail.

Lucky her, she had picked the tunnel with the dead end.

She was tempted to scream, numerous times at that, but faced with the decision of being blasted to bits by a Con, or sitting down for another scornful lecture from Optimus, she readily chose her demise.

Suddenly, something small tinged off of the back of the Con's head, causing the large giant to turn his attention from Miko to the disturbance behind him. Miko's eyes lit up with shock as she found Aulora feet behind the Cybertronian, her arm shooting into the air to grab the spinning boomerang, eyes squinted with determination.

She knew she had grabbed his attention.

And with astounding speed, Aulora took off back out the tunnel, with the trooper stumbling shocked after her, continually leaning up against the sides of the tunnel to gain some bearings over his distorted vision. Not knowing what else to do at that moment, Miko caught up to the duo, running past the Decepticon, who still seemed to be dazed from the hit, and catching up to Aulora.

"Woah, dude, how did you do that!" she exclaimed.

"I'll explain later. For now, I was able to hit him where his sensitive, exposed audio receptor circuitry should be, which means we have about a 3 minutes before his audio receptors start functioning again and his optics stop fizzing out," Aulora explained.

She turned to the baffled Japanese girl beside her. "It's a trick I learned from Cliffjumper," she clarified, even quieter.

"We have to find our way out of this cave. The Cons are scrambling our phone signals, so we have to get away from them long enough for Raf to find us and bridge us back," Aulora explained, keeping a surprisingly steady voice as the two continued to run down the tunnel, finally making their way into the center of the tunnels.

"What now!?" Miko exclaimed, peering over her shoulder to keep an eye on the stumbling Decepticon.

Aulora frantically looked around the dozens of tunnel entries, each one looking the same as the other.

Suddenly, the two perked up at the sound of a voice. They turned to their left, to see Jack peering out from behind a tunnel entrance waving to them.

"Jack!?" they exclaimed, running over to him.

"Come on. The exit of the cave is this way!" he yelled, suddenly catching sight of the Decepticon trooper, whose eyes were slowly steadying out into their pulsing red glare. He waited until the two girls made it to him before taking off down the cave along with them.

"There it is!" Miko exclaimed, pointing to the circle of bright daylight ahead of them. The kids pushed themselves harder as they sprinted toward the sudden ground bridge opening before them.

They hopped through it, closing them off to the gaining Decepticon.

Raf turned around from the screen to watch his friends slowly make it into base, apparent panic written all over his face.

"Raf, what is it?" Aulora asked.

"I'd better hear Jack, Miko and Aulora's voice in less than 10 nanoseconds or I'm bridging back to base!" Ratchet threatened, his booming voice causing the small boy to scrunch his face and cover his ears. Jack, Miko and Aulora turned to each other with wide eyes and quickly sprinted up the stairs.

"We're here, Doc Bot!" Miko exclaimed, collapsing on the couch as she let her body catch its breath.

"It's all good," Jack added, wiping the sweat that had collected on his forehead.

"Where have you been!? And why do you sound out of breath?" Ratchet asked, skeptically.

"We just came from a race around the base, Ratchet. I beat all of them, as expected," Aulora quickly supplied, shrugging her shoulders when she saw Jack's interested face.

"Mmhmm, very well. We've been able to restrain the Decepticon forces here, so now I can finally contact you. Raf, be prepared to bridge us back within the hour," the field medic instructed.

"Understood. Raf, over and out," the young boy replied, turning to watch as Miko sheepishly made her way to Jack.

"Hey, Jack," she started, eyes falling to her feet, "I was being an aft when I said those things before. You are protective," she said, looking up to him, "but you're only trying to help us. So…I'm sorry," she apologized.

Jack sighed and turned to look at her. "And I'm sorry too. I didn't mean it about not caring if you got blown to bits. We were angry, and we said some stupid stuff," he said, extending his clenched fist out to the Japanese teenager.

"We cool?" he asked. She smiled and returned the first pump. "We're cool," she confirmed.

"And you!" she exclaimed, pointing to Aulora, her normal energetic adrenaline returning to her voice.

"Where in the world did you learn how to throw a boomerang like that!?" she exclaimed, Jack and Raf turning to the teenager with puzzled looks.

"Sydney, Australia," Aulora stated calmly.

"You should've seen her guys! First she snuck up on the Decepticon, then she…" And Miko began to trail off, retelling the exciting tale of Aulora's rescue, while Jack joined Aulora up against the railing.

"By the way thanks," he whispered to her. She turned to him with puzzled eyes.

"For what?" she whispered back.

"Your food for thought," he replied.

She gave him a small smile. "I learned from the best," she simply stated, Jack watching as her eyes detached themselves from the real world, falling under the magical spell of an old memory, as they glazed over in content.

He let her have her peace.

 

* * *

 

 

She stretched herself out on her bare, kitchen island counter, letting her ankles and feel dangle off the other end.

She listened for a few moments as her slippers scuffed against the edge of the counter, the sound echoing across her empty kitchen. The overhead light was on, brightly illuminating the kitchen, while the rest of the vacant house sat in idle darkness.

She supported her head up on her bent arm, letting her fingers twiddle around with the black pen before they traveled down to her last set of notes and began writing:

**-01/27: strange occurrence: while local bully had cornered me and was inflicting pain, I was overcome with the strangest sensation of being watched (from inside head). Possible it didn't happen at all, but with a mind connection, nothing can be over-looked.**


	6. Approaching Tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate of A Shooting Star: Comes Back To Haunt  
> Approaching Tide
> 
> Optimus Prime and his team jump straight into action as a series of ancient relics crash land on Earth, but is it all that safe to uncover the past so readily, when it was buried for a reason. And why does Aulora start to feel like she's being watched?

"Is he always this late?" Aulora asked, peering down at the motorcycle beneath her.

The beautiful teenager was propped against Jack's dark purple motorcycle, watching as an eerie silence fell over the parking lot, completely void of any human life at all. And at 3 o'clock on a Friday afternoon, that was to be expected.

"Not really. Unless he got talking to Sierra," Arcee responded, causing Aulora to smile at the eye-roll beneath Arcee's somewhat irritated response.

"What, the cheerleader captain?" Aulora asked.

It was the Autobot guardian's turn to smile to herself, able to hear an obvious dose of concern beneath Aulora's curiosity.

"Is that jealousy I hear?" Arcee asked, with slight amusement on her tongue.

"Jealousy? Arcee, I haven't known Jack long enough to be jealous. I'm just…interested in why," Aulora simple commented, turning her head back to the front door for any sign of movement.

"What do you mean 'why'?" Arcee asked.

"I don't know. He just…doesn't talk about her," Aulora explained to the Autobot femme.

"Jack's a pretty private guy, Aulora. He doesn't broadcast a lot about his life," Arcee explained, also eyeing the large doors for any signs of her charge.

"You're probably right," Aulora said. She peered down at Arcee's tilting review mirrors, the only outward signs that there was a living mind and body beneath her.

"So why Jack? I mean, why did you pick him to look after?" Aulora asked, interested in the fact she had not asked the Autobot before.

"To be truthful, Aulora, I didn't want a charge. I didn't want anything to do with Jack, Miko or Raf when they first showed up at base. It was actually Optimus who assigned Bulkhead, Bumblebee and I to our designated charges. But Optimus must've known exactly what he was doing, because I think I can speak for myself and the others, that Optimus couldn't have paired a better Autobot to a human," Arcee explained, reminiscing back to the first day she had brought Jack home, so alert and hostile, she had nearly opened fired on June.

Arcee peered her mirror up at Aulora, knowing there was a deeper question burning inside her than the one she was asking. She remembered being able to sit down with her old partner and listen to him talk on and on for hours about the now teenage human a top her. And if Aulora hadn't changed since then, then Cliffjumper's assessments would still stand. Aulora wasn't a big talker. As a girl of few words, Arcee never seemed to understand how such an open, chatter-box like Cliffjumper became so close with the young human.

Until Arcee came to the final, amusing conclusion that Cliffjumper had finally found that quiet ear that wouldn't interrupt his stories and tales.

Arcee watched as Aulora's eyes fell to the dark, pavement beneath her feet, completely lost in her thoughts.

Until it suddenly occurred to the Autobot; Aulora didn't have a guardian.

It had been almost two weeks since Optimus first discovered Aulora, and since then she had been handed off from Bulkhead to Bumblebee to herself, and then back around, watching as the other humans enjoyed the tight friendships they had formed with their guardians. Aulora had no one. She never said a word as she was informed by Optimus, every morning, which Autobot and human she would be riding with to and from school, but looking into her forlorn eyes, Arcee knew it was slowly digging at her mind. She was surprised her leader had not designated a guardian for her. Being that Bumblebee, Bulkhead and herself already had their hands full with their own humans, and Ratchet was primarily at base and past his prime to thoroughly protect her in immediate danger any way, Optimus was the only possible candidate. But Arcee knew well that Optimus was nothing but efficient and demanded nothing less than success, traits that required his attention to be on and for the team, 'round the clock. To have a human to worry about on top of all of that responsibility, Arcee would feel guilty placing that kind of burden on her leader.

So then who?

Given the fact she was a long-time Autobot ally, had had a face-to-face encounter with the Decepticon leader and was holding a very rare and valuable serum, Aulora was at a greater risk than the other humans, putting her need for a guardian as a top priority, one Arcee hoped was on Optimus's mind.

She was about to reassure Aulora, that in due time Optimus would have to find her a guardian, when the front doors swung open, unveiling a tall, slender girl with red hair pulled back into a high ponytail with a sweater and mini-skirt, followed closely by Jack. Aulora watched her as she continued to giggle about something Jack said, a broad smile on his face as she playfully nudged him in the shoulder with the tips of her fingers.

"Oh Jack, you're so funny," she commented, both Autobot and Aulora inwardly chuckling at the high-pitched, foolish demeanor the teenager coiled around Jack and didn't let go.

Typical girls.

Jack suddenly caught sight of Aulora leaned against Arcee, her legs casually stretched out in front of her, her hands in her pockets and her loose hair strands dancing playfully in the wind.

"Oh, hey Aulora. Sorry to keep you waiting," he said, habitually scratching the back of his head with guilt, as Sierra and him made their way down the steps to Arcee's parking spot. But not too much guilt.

The raven-haired teenager was suddenly struck with a thought and again he reached his fingers back to sheepishly play with the strands of hair on the back of his head.

"Sorry, guys, my bad. Sierra, this is Aulora. Aulora, this is Sierra, the high school's head cheerleader," Jack explained.

Sierra's smile immediately dropped as she beheld the new student, her eyes drooling with cruel judgment as she dissected the now very self-conscious teen. But she quickly snapped back, throwing on a large, fake smile and mechanically stretching out her arm.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Aulora," she said, forcefully lowering and raising her voice to give the smaller girl the impression that the cheerleader gave any concern to her, especially when Jack was bringing a new student home, and not her.

Aulora gave a small smile and was stretching out her hand, eagerly ready to grasp the student's hand and introduce herself, when her eyes horrifically caught sight of the bandages still wound around her arms and hands, slowly becoming visible. Aulora's cheeks immediately changed to a bright shade of pink and she quickly shoved her hand back in her pocket, and threw a bigger smile to the sophomore.

"It's really nice to meet you too, Sierra," she said, regaining her composure and letting her quiet, sweet voice trickle down her tongue as she looked skeptically down at her pockets, internally sighing to herself. That was way too close, she thought to herself.

"So, Aulora, where are you from?" Sierra asked, noticeably dropping the fake interest she had sugar coated her voice in, and now replaced it with hints of skepticism, as she took another close look at this…girl Jack had suddenly befriended.

"I, uh…traveled around…a lot," Aulora meekly answered, nervously tugging a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

"So, uh, Sierra was just telling me that the squad is looking for another flier. You should try out Aulora," Jack quickly added, nervous of the awkward tension that seemed to settle between the two girls.

Both turned to the idiot boy and threw him a deathly glare. While Aulora's was filled with pure mortification and terror, Sierra's exploded with rage and fury, her eyes alone warning the boy to stop talking before he said something else stupid.

"Jack…I, uh…no, I mean…I don't think so…Jack," Aulora fumbled, her clumsy tongue embarrassingly fumbling across her mouth out of pure humiliation from being caught so off guard, her cheeks burning brighter and brighter by the second.

"No, it's ok Aulora. It's not really your speed anyway," Sierra replied smoothly.

Aulora simply stood there, stunned by Sierra's comment, watching as the cheerleader gathered a small piece of hair and tucked it behind her ear.

"Well, I got to get going. My mom and I are heading out to Venice beach for the weekend, and I don't want to be late. Jack, can you walk me to my car?" The red head asked, throwing back on her girly, playful, foolish disposition as she threw a big-eyed stare to the tall boy.

"Ah, yeah. Sure. I'll be right back," he said, turning to Aulora as he made his way after the already disappearing red-head.

"It was nice meeting you," Sierra called out, simply waving a hand back to Aulora, who returned to her relaxed tilt against Arcee, quietly sighing to herself.

"Well, I guess that answers that question," Arcee stated, staring after her charge and his crush.

"You said it," Aulora agreed.

 

* * *

 

 

_At first, their efforts were fruitless._

_No matter how long Alpha Trion and Prima sat for, concentrating so hard, Solus Prime often worried for their health, they could not complete the simple task of reading each others' thoughts. They would sit and stare at each other, sometimes for days, in complete silence, waiting for something, anything to fly across their mind._

_But nothing worked._

_Prima grew worried, as the rumors of the traitorous Megatronus and his off-world excursions plagued the nations, even causing some to uproar, and continued to exceed his efforts in establishing a firm Telonian connection with the archivist. What Prima failed to comprehend, was that Primus created this gift with the hope that it would further connect the 12 Primes, and possibly prevent Megatronus from going through with his Sun Harvester missions, as he grew less and less sympathetic toward life._

_The Telonian connection was created for Prima's Matrix to choose someone deeply worthy of his mind and spark. For in order to establish a connection, the Matrix of Leadership must sense that companion is not only well trusted by the Matrix holder, but wields the great qualities and gifts of Primus himself._

_Though, in time, Prima was able to read Alpha Trion's mind, and acquire a glimpse at the frequent visions the archivist was experiencing, it was too late. Prima was not able to discern much from Alpha Trion's glimpses into the future, and it was Prima's obsession with discovering just what Megatronus would have planned for the future, that he failed to concentrate on the chaos the Prime was causing at that moment._

_Prima was able to gather the remaining Primes to combat the rogue Cybertronian on a distant planet, located deep within the Milky Way Galaxy..._

_Knock, knock, knock._

The young Prime tiredly shifted his eyes up from the data pad in his hand to stare at the door, as if they carried an unseen weight on them.

"It's me…Arcee," the muffled voice added.

"You may come in," Optimus answered.

Arcee slowly opened the door into Optimus's quarters and beheld the quiet Prime as he stayed seated as his desk, his head slowly pulling away from his propped hand and setting the data pad on the desk.

"Arcee, is everything alright?" he asked, curiously inspecting his soldier. She displayed no outward signs of distress or anxiety, though she always did well in covering these emotions, remembering the last time she was in his quarters was shortly after Cliffjumper passed away, the young soldier almost altogether avoiding his requests to speak with her.

She nodded her head firmly. "Yes, Optimus. Everything's fine. I only came here to ask you a question," the femme replied. Optimus could feel his eyebrows slowly twitch up in interest.

"Very well. What is your question?" he asked, turning his body around in the chair to face the small Autobot, trying to show his team member that she had his undivided attention, although his thoughts seemed to be slowly luring back to the idle data pad on his desk.

"I was just…curious, if you gave any thought to a guardian for Aulora," Arcee asked.

Optimus was almost surprised by her question, but he reminded himself that Aulora and Arcee had grown fairly close after her aunt had supplied aid to a wounded Cliffjumper. And though Optimus knew very well Arcee was not one to create very outwardly displayed companionships, creating rather large and hard barriers to crumble and push aside to reach her trust, Aulora had seemed to have it since Arcee had first heard of her through her partner.

Whether the two females had shared a friendship with Cliffjumper, or the fact that they were simple very similar in personalities, Arcee was always the first to volunteer to bring Aulora to and from school, along with Jack, which suggested to the Autobot leader that something was growing between the two. This question strongly supported that statement.

"I have given some thought to the subject, yes," Optimus answered. Arcee watched as her leader ever so slightly faltered after his answer.

"And-d-d? Who is it?" she asked.

"I have deeply reflected upon every possible candidate. Bulkhead, Bumblebee and yourself were my first choice, however it wasn't long after this decision that I realized enough responsibility was placed upon you with only one human charge, and a second would not only require more of your attention, which could be directed at other missions, but it could render you less capable of defending them from harm. So then I considered Ratchet as a possible guardian. Though he seemed like a more fitting choice, each mission continues to prove that Ratchet is best-suited at base, where he can continue to provide his scientific and medical expertise, a task he wouldn't be able to complete at full capacity with the duty of guarding a human child. Wheeljack did become a possibility, but his rather lack of discipline and self-control, along with his defiance to any type of authority for that matter, immediately deemed him incapable of taking on such a responsibility. I also contemplated Agent Fowler's roll as Aulora's guardian, however, Agent Fowler assured me that his rather occupied schedule would not be able to correspond with the duties of being a "sitter" as he put it," Optimus explained, watching as Arcee folded her arms casually across her chest sometime during his explanation.

"So... if we can't, and Agent Fowler can't…who's going to watch over her?" Arcee pushed. She watched her leader as he let out a delicate sigh. Not because of her questioning. It seemed to be due to the fact that he was falling short of a worthy candidate.

"After deep consideration, I find that it is best if I was to act as Aulora's guardian, even it is for the time being," he answered.

"Really? Are you sure that's such a good idea?" Arcee asked, and Optimus couldn't help but ponder over his soldier's question, truly reflecting on his choice and if it really was such a "good idea."

"Aulora is in dire need of a permanent and single guardian. Given recent events, Aulora is a very prominent threat to the Decepticon cause, if she was not already. Although, there will be frequent occurrences where I will require Bumblebee, Bulkhead or yourself to act as a temporary transportation for the young McAllister, it is also due to recent events that I find it would be rather effective if I were to be some type of figure in her daily routine," he explained.

Recent events.

That's what was plaguing the young Prime's mind.

Recent events.

She turned to look at her leader directly in the eye.

"Have you talked to her at all?" she asked. She watched curiously as his eyes not only slightly widened in bafflement, but also a little…guilt.

"I find that Aulora does not seem to wish to speak with me at this time," Optimus simply stated.

Optimus was right. She remembered seeing Aulora numerous times leave the main computers with some excuse, only to see Optimus enter immediately after. She was avoiding the Prime, for reasons Arcee could understand. Being able to read someone's mind; it was scary, daunting and real, three words that are dangerous together.

Arcee nodded respectively to her leader, and turned to leave his quarters. She suddenly stopped in the middle of the door way, her hand resting on its frame.

"A wise person once told me that closing yourself off from feeling, won't help anybody. Aulora might need help figuring that out," the Autobot femme added, before slipping back out into the hallway, leaving the young Prime in the empty silence of his quarters to burrow within in his own thoughts once more.

 

* * *

 

 

"Optimus, come see this!" Ratchet beckoned from his stance in front of the main computers. The field medic's commander quickly reached his side, worried by the urgency in his old friend's voice.

"I've just picked up a reading from the center of the Indian Ocean. Some type of…object is creating catastrophic pulses of electromagnetic frequencies," Ratchet explained, bringing up graphs of the pulses' wavelength patterns.

"Prime!" Neither the medic nor the leader turned their head to address the former Army Ranger, their eyes locked on Ratchet's work, as their liaison stomped from the elevator to directly in front of them.

"My boys just located a thunderstorm with killer waves right next door to Australia, and they have reason to believe it's one of your toys!" Agent Fowler exclaimed.

"We have detected it as well, Agent Fowler. We're just bringing up its schematics…now," Ratchet explained, filling the main computer screen with the objects inner and outer workings.

"By the Allspark," Ratchet gasped, staring wide-eyed up at the screen.

"What!? What is it?" Agent Fowler asked, tilting his head back to look up at the screen before him.

"It is an Iacon Relic," Optimus stated.

"I never thought Project Downfall succeeded," Ratchet commented, looking up at his leader with questioning edged into his face plate.

"What's a something-con Relic? And what's Project Downfall?!" Agent Fowler demanded impatiently.

"The Iacon Relics were a classified set of weapons and tools that were locked away safely in the Vaults of Iacon by the Autobots, in Iacon City, due to the rising threat of the Decepticons. Among these relics, the Vaults contained numerous weapons of warfare and destruction, biological warfare viruses and their antidotes, and even the ancient weapons of the Primes themselves. During the final days of the war, and Cybertron, Alpha Trion, one of the members of the Iacon Relic Committee launched Project Downfall, which sent each Iacon Relic, along with a homing beacon, to off-world sites, many shipping out to further galaxies, out of the Decepticons' hands. Which is why it is possible relics such as these can be found on remote planets, such as this one," Optimus explained to Agent Fowler.

"And this," he explained, indicating with a nod of his head to schematic pictures on the computer screens, "would be the Polarity Gauntlet, its schematics found in Solus Prime's numerous memoir data pads and later recreated by Shockwave himself," Optimus explained.

"It has to ability to create seismic magnetic fields that were used to catapult an entire Autobot fleet with the flip of a switch, before Autobot forces were able to seize it and lock it away," Optimus added.

"Which would explain the strange natural occurrences. The Gauntlet must've been accidently activated, and has generated a large enough magnetic field to increase the moon's magnetic pull on the Earth, causing the large waves," Ratchet explained.

"We must shut the relic down before the waves travel close enough to neighboring civilizations to cause damage," Optimus proclaimed.

 

* * *

 

 

Aulora continued to peer up at the left computer screen.

While the other three humans were a little more focused the on the super magnet, displayed on the center screen as they scrolled through the base's data files concerning the weapon, she was completely focused on the 4 Autobot life signals that were stretched across the screen.

Each picture of each Autobot was followed a long bar, filled with a smaller green one that continued to fluctuate with each passing second. She continued to monitor them, Ratchet informing her that as soon as the graphs dropped below the middle line, and the green changed to a red, they needed to be bridged back.

She was fascinated at how sporadic the graphs could get.

While Bumblebee's seemed to dance around at whatever level it pleased, Arcee and Bulkhead's remained rather steady, until out of nowhere they would spontaneously drop or rise, while Optimus's seemed to stay at the same, healthy level, with a steady spark beat.

Her heart seemed to stop short upon watching Optimus's spark beat. A steady pulse.

Bump, bump, bump.

Each bump followed by a patient, steady pause, before recollecting itself again and spiking once more.

Bump, bump, bump.

Was that how his heart always was?

Patient and regular; never leaning to one side or the other.

What was it like when they entered each others' minds?

Did his heart pump hard and fast, trying to keep up with each flashing image? Or did it slow down and stall, not able to keep at the images' pace?

Or maybe it stopped altogether? Maybe it just sat there, feeling utterly lifeless and exhausted, as a foreign object twisted inside his mind, completely helpless to its control.

Or did it not change? Maybe it stayed as punctual at his heart beat at that moment. Maybe, in the heat of the moment, in the glorious time of battle, where odds were against him…that was when his heart returned to normalcy. It was when guns were pointed at his head, rivalries bearing down on him, sounds of explosions blaring, the dependency of his soldiers weighing on his mind when his heart jumped back to its stoic, triumphant beat, ready to accept the challenge.

Each beat of his spark was a blow to Megatron's face.

Each beat was a kick to Starscream's chest.

Each beat was another blast firing from his weapons; his body moving with each distinct beat of his spark.

Aulora immediately jerked her stare away from the screen.

Did she just spend that whole time obsessing over a robot's heart beat? She felt like a pre-teen fan-girling over the latest boy band. She suppressed a shudder and turned to the medic standing feet from her.

"Hey, Ratchet. Don't Autobots, you know…rust?" she asked.

"Yes, and our metal contains a much higher iron percentage than most of your earthly metal, so we are at a much greater risk of rust compared to a vehicle, so to speak," the medic explained, never once averting his gaze from the screen.

"But isn't that…dangerous?" she asked.

"Of course! That's why I have you monitoring their vitals! It's too dangerous for us to spend a long period of time underwater. Once oxidation sets in, the rust will start to eat away at the protoform beneath their armor, which has higher iron proportions than their armor. Rust on a protoform damages skin permanently, and can cause internal wiring damage, if the rust is able to set in that long," Ratchet explained.

"You know, for pretty advanced technology, you guys sure have a lot of kryptonites," Miko interjected, hands firmly on her hips.

Ratchet scoffed at the teen and returned his steady gaze back to the ever-curious Aulora.

"Arcee and Bumblebee only have about an hour. Arcee's smaller body frame will take a shorter amount of time to oxidize than say Bulkhead's. And Bumblebee, being still relatively young, has a weaker and a more delicate protoform that is more susceptible to rust. Bulkhead only has about a half hour longer," Ratchet explained.

"What about Optimus?" she questioned further.

She heard the medic behind her release a distressed sigh.

"Optimus shouldn't even be out there," Ratchet explained, with obvious frustration.

"Why?"

"Because although a very notable tool, the Matrix of Leadership is a somewhat volatile contraption, and requires an ample amount of Energon to sustain itself. And for every drop of Energon that gets circulated through the Matrix, it releases a small dosage of metal, with traces of iron, that seeps back into Optimus's systems," Ratchet explains.

"So almost like a human respiratory system. We circulate oxygen through our heart and lungs, and then release carbon dioxide," Aulora adds.

"Something like that, yes," Ratchet replied.

"But I don't get it. Doesn't your medical opinion succeed Optimus's orders?" Aulora asked.

"Generally, yes. But I have given up hope in truly drilling into our leader's mind that he can't continually put himself in danger," Ratchet grumbled.

 

* * *

 

 

Optimus continued to trudge along the bottom of the slippery ocean floor, the thick, murky water only penetrated by the Autobots' headlights as they followed their leader. The Autobot leader kept his trained eyes on the dimly-lit ground, his blaster powering up at any movement, to discover it as the local marine life observing the large robots walking through their territory. Given the 'Bots rather large size, it made walking through water all the more difficult, as the current continually served as a push against the team's efforts in making it to the relic before it was too late.

Suddenly, Optimus turned around to the sound of censor alarms going off behind him. He spotted Arcee and Bumblebee eyeing their back struts and wings, where their Autobot symbol began to pulse a bright blue.

"Arcee, Bumblebee, return to base. Ratchet will send a ground bridge to our arrival coordinates," Optimus instructed behind his battle mask, the only thing that was allowing the leader to speak underwater.

Arcee and Bumblebee responded with a silent, firm nod and grabbed each others' hands. They crouched down, and with every piece of remaining strength they had left, the duo jumped off the ground, their arms stretched out to the surface as they swam back.

"We must find the relic before it is time you must return as well," Optimus instructed, glancing down at his last remaining soldier behind him. Bulkhead gave a nod and a thumbs up as the two continued through the slippery darkness.

 

* * *

 

 

Ratchet activated the ground bridge, spinning around to watch for any splash a color among the electric blue and greens. He suddenly spotted Arcee and Bumblebee, the young scout supporting the femme as she gingerly limped into base, her right leg awkwardly angled out to the side to avoid pressure. The medic also noted that the scout was in no better condition. Though his front chest plate and legs seemed to be clear of the oxidation process, his door wings were slowly starting to acquire it, and the way Bumblebee pressed them, hard together warned the medic that he was indeed in pain.

Ratchet powered down the ground bridge and came to the pair's side.

"Arcee, are you ok?" Jack asked urgently.

Raf sprinted down the stairs to his guardian, eyeing him sympathetically.

"Fine," Arcee painfully spat out as Ratchet inspected her knee joint.

Ratchet carefully and expertly wound his arm underneath Arcee's thighs and kept another under her back as he lifted her up into his arms and walked over to the already set-up med bays.

"You too, Bumblebee," Ratchet called back. The scout tentatively followed the medic, assuring his frantic charge bellow him that he was alright.

Aulora spun around to a beeping sound coming from the control panel. She plopped herself down in Raf's seat, with Miko right behind her, and shoved Raf's headphones on.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Aulora, its Bulkhead, requesting a ground bridge," the Wrecker's voice answered.

"Back so soon?" she teased, already punching in the coordinates.

"The water's screwing up my comm link and audio receptors. Optimus was afraid I wouldn't be able to call in if I waited longer," he answered.

Aulora activated the ground bridge. "Alright, Bulkhead. Comin' at yah," she called back.

Miko pressed hard against the railing as she watched her guardian come through, running down the stairs to greet him.

Aulora noticed numerous light blue spots that had began to form around the sides of Bulkhead's head. So that's what rust looked like on a Cybertronian.

_Leave them long enough and they'd looked like a giant Smurf,_ Aulora mused to herself.

Ratchet briskly sprinted over to Bulkhead, who Aulora also noticed was very wobbly when he walked. While supporting him on one side, the field medic rushed the woozy Wrecker over to another medical bay that was set up for him beside Arcee, who was already recharging, and Bumblebee who sat with his arm resting on his bent knee, Aulora knowing the young Scout was no doubt waiting for his leader.

Aulora turned her head back to the main screen, Optimus vitals now taking up the entire screen.

With a new sense of purpose, the young teenager shuffled Raf's ear phones onto her head and over her ears.

If Optimus was going to call in, she was going to be there.

He was pushing himself, physically and mentally, as the leader, proving that the visible weight of the world crumbling down on his shoulder was nothing he couldn't handle. If not to his team, it was to prove his worth to himself. But Aulora knew that path of solitude, fueled by your complete and utter determination that you were fine by yourself. It was steep and dangerous, and when you did fall, no doubt a horrific and long drop, there was no one there offering a hand.

Suddenly, Aulora was completely awestruck by the deep, heart-gripping similarity between the two.

Just a second ago, she was trying to push him out of her head. And now…she couldn't feel they could be any closer. It was frightening to feel her heart completely warm to the thought of the Autobot leader, her head melting with overwhelming calmness at his name played across her mind. It felt as if her very soul had known Optimus since her own beginning, as if they had always been…together. Their lives had always kept them on the same path, they could never veer away from each other. She felt so at ease, complete bliss and ecstasy, to know that he was simply there. It was foreboding to say the least, to feel that her very being depended on him, so intertwined they felt, her body almost seem to crave it. As if it was keeping her alive at that very moment. She took a large breath, relieving her deeply frightened and anxious mind out of its daunting epiphany. She could feel her fingers and limbs shaking with crazy static, her nerves dancing on their toes with complete mind-rattling energy.

It was an intense feeling, but it quickly faded away, leaving Aulora perturbed, wondering if what she had just felt was real, or simply dream she had drifted off in.

She turned back to the main screen, where Optimus's spark beat continued to tap steadily along.

_Optimus shouldn't even be out there._

 


	7. Delving Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate of A Shooting Star: Comes Back To Haunt  
> Delving Deep
> 
> Optimus Prime and his team jump straight into action as a series of ancient relics crash land on Earth, but is it all that safe to uncover the past so readily, when it was buried for a reason. And why does Aulora start to feel like she's being watched?

The Autobot leader continued his determined, steady plod through the thickly vegetated marine floor, the Polarity Gauntlet secured tightly within his grip, each step slower and more painful than the one before.

The intensity of oxidation that had begun to settle atop Optimus's armor was painful, but it's more recent travel along his neck and back, where it had already eaten through his armor to his sensitive protoform was where he could feel the raging fire burn. He had been tempted numerous times to touch those areas, but he firmly pushed the thought away, knowing the confirmed truth would simply hasten his speed to the ground bridge coordinates, and with such a strong current against him, the most fruitless idea was to go and burn the Energon that he so desperately needed to take. He continued to push his aching joints through the dark, murky water, his movement alone occurring from pure, mechanical instinct; an instinct that had been brutally drilled into his mind moments after facing the treacheries of the battle field.

He could feel his exhausted body sigh with relief as he finally came upon the end of his submerged mission. At this point, he was required to make it to the surface, where he would rendezvous at a small collection of cliff rocks, just off the shore, and Ratchet would send for a ground bridge.

The Autobot leader grumbled quietly in pain as at the movement of bending down to spring forth from the ocean floor caused enough strain on his weakened and exposed leg wiring to buckle beneath the sudden advance. He quickly pushed the irritation aside and pushed off from the ground, letting his momentum carry him through the water as far as it could take him, dreading the moment when he would eventually have to start swimming.

The Last Prime continued to soar through the water, his optics adjusting to the very subtle change in lighting, the sunlight still hundreds of feet above his head. But with each passing second, he drew closer and closer still, watching as the water around him slowly began brightening to a warmer shade of blue. He was intrigued by the feeling of the water glistening and gliding alongside his armor, almost as if he wasn't really touching the substance at all, but it was simply a force that was carrying the Autobot along. The only source of hydrogen dioxide on Cybertron, Optimus thought to himself, was found in the very rare climactic storms Cybertron would experience every now and then, and even then all mechs and femmes were instructed to stay indoors, due to the eminent danger of rusting. If only they could see him now.

As the large Autobot neared the surface, his legs instinctively beginning to kick his body upward as he felt himself slowing down, he squinted to observe a large, shadowy mass that had settled off in the distance to his left. He immediately recognized it as a marine vessel of some sort, observing its intriguing buoyancy upon the sea's surface. He automatically began to slow his pace, waiting patiently for the vessel to pass before continuing on to the surface, knowing the probability of being spotted by a human had now increased.

But as the large ship continued towards him, the young mech slowly began to realize that he had greatly underestimated the size of the large craft, its submerged bottom appearing to extend for miles. And Optimus also discovered that he also underestimated the speed at which the ship was traveling, but he uncovered the fact too late.

Suddenly, the boat was nearing him, and he could slowly feel the current the ship's engine was creating pull his worn-out body closer to it. He frantically grabbed at the slippery substance surrounding him, but the waves offered him no help, as he found himself being sucked into the strong current. He turned around to find himself veering straight towards a spinning propeller that was attached to the ship's rear. He crossed his arms in front of his face as he braced for impact.

He yelled in surprise and agony as one of the blades collided, heavily into his back, shoving the pained Autobot back towards the ocean's floor. As Optimus's blurry vision slowly focused back to his surroundings, the intense pain in his back preventing him from completely drifting off into stasis, he scrunched his optics in confusion at the flickering, orange-like bubble that had formed around him. He looked down at his vibrating hand to find the Polarity Gauntlet humming with life. He reeled back as the generated force field expanded and exploded, leaving the Prime pondering the very suspicious silence following. However, what the mech sadly did not notice during the brief period was that the Gauntlet had attracted a loose anchor, buried and settled heavily beneath the ocean floor, and was sending it spiraling towards the still oblivious leader.

Optimus's optics suddenly widened in anguish as the silent anchor struck itself deep within his leg, its right fluke stabbing him directly through his thigh and knee joint, mercilessly ripping through his internal wiring. The Cybertronian watched helplessly as his bright, blue Energon began swirling around in the water, eventually clouding his entire line of vision, as the heavy weight of the embedded anchor miserly pulled the weak mech back to its dark depths.

 

* * *

 

 

"Ratchet, come here…now!"

The Autobot medic slowly peered up from his crouch, his welders delicately mending Arcee's torn knee joint, the rust eating away at its outer plating, to look up at the sound of Aulora's frantic voice. He was about to reprimand the young human, exploding into another rant towards the teenagers that he was not to be disrupted during such a sensitive operation, when he suddenly remembered the task he had bestowed upon Aulora; guard Optimus's vitals.

He gently laid aside the powered-down tools and rushed over to the main control screen. Aulora turned to him, eyes wide with fear, as she frantically pointed to Optimus's signal details.

"His Energon readings have completely dropped and his spark rate his slowing down!" she exclaimed, fear rising into her pale blue eyes.

The field medic desperately scanned the screen.

"He's losing Energon too fast. The rising pressure levels on his outer armor suggests he's drowning, indicating he's too weak to make it back up to the surface," Ratchet explained, his eyes still glued on the screen.

"Can't you just send him a bridge to his current coordinates?" Aulora asked, desperately.

"And open up a direct pathway from the ocean to our base!? This whole place would be submerged in mere seconds!" the medic scoffed. "I have to go get him," Ratchet stated.

"But you're the only one who can stop the oxidation process," Aulora added, turning to look at the tired teammates sprawled out on their medical berths.

"We don't have any other options!" Ratchet exclaimed to Aulora.

"What if I could go get Optimus?" Aulora suddenly asked, her face lighting up with brilliant realization.

"Oh, and how, pray tell, will you possibly manage to carry a seven ton Autobot back to the surface!" Ratchet threw at the young teenager.

With unstoppable determination burning through her, Aulora turned to Raf, sitting feet from her, scanning over his laptop.

"Raf, are there any large shipping vessels entering Fremantle Port, Australia in the next 60 minutes?" Aulora called over to him.

Raf nodded his head and quickly whipped back to his laptop, his small fingers ferociously flying across the keyboard.

"Freight SDN 178 will be entering Fremantle Port in approximately 57 minutes," Raf answered, turning back around in his swivel chair to Aulora and Ratchet.

"Meaning it still has a little while before it reaches Optimus," Aulora calculated, her eyes rigid with fortitude, looking back up at the medic.

He was seconds from scolding Aulora for wasting his time with pointless information, when his body suddenly paused, his mouth and eyes widening as he slowly turned back to the human, finally realizing what the teenager could possibly have on her mind.

"No…no, no, no! Are you suggesting that we allow a human ship to carry Optimus!? What if we are seen!?" he exclaimed.

"The shipping freight only has security cameras on deck and the only crew members are the captain," Raf added.

"They're watching activity on the ship, not below it," Aulora firmly stated, looking back at the field medic.

"And what happens when Optimus does make it to the port!? HMM!? A human vessel would not be foolish enough to venture near rocks, which is the only thing that will offer him solid cover!" Ratchet challenged.

"Optimus wouldn't have to make it directly to the port. There's a small, unoccupied piece of land on the western coast. It's too small to be labeled as an island, but it's large enough to send a ground bridge to," Raf said, turning back to his screen.

"And," he added, throwing the freight's path to Australia's port up on the overhead screen, "Freight SDN 178 will be conveniently passing by it," Raf added.

Both kids crossed their arms across their chests, accomplished, turning back to the thinking Autobot.

 

* * *

 

 

The large, firm and almost invincible vessel, sliced through the now calm waves of the Indian Ocean, its rusty, red sides glistening in the sun with beads of splashed water. The top deck was empty, at the moment, most of its open area filled with large crates with imported goods from its numerous stops along India and Africa's coast. What it didn't expect were two pieces of American cargo, that had nestled themselves deep within the dark shadows of the looming crates, crouched down to the ground, their backs pressed hard against its metal wall.

"Come on, Raf. Hurry up," Jack pleaded to himself.

"If we wait any longer, we won't be able pick up Optimus in time to make it to the island," Aulora added in a hushed tone.

Raf's voice quickly filled their ears seconds after Aulora's comment "We're in. Freezing all external cameras…now. All systems are a go," he instructed the two through their ear pieces.

The two teenagers quickly slipped out from behind the crates, Jack pressing his fingers harder against the ear piece.

"Alright, Raf. Lay it out," he responded.

"There should be drum winches to the left of you. Head to those," Raf instructed.

"Wait, what's a drum winch?" Jack asked.

Aulora rolled her eyes and smiled, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the stern of the vessel.

"Come on Mr. Fishing Man," she mused.

The two reached the back, staring up at 6 large pulley systems, wrapped wound with fishing nests.

"Oh," Jack replied.

"The one all the way to the right should have strong cables instead of fishing nets," Raf informed. "Aulora, there's a small compartment on the deck off to the left of the first drum winch. In there, you should find spare scuba gear. You guys need to hurry. They're only stopped for about a half an hour to fix a little electrical problem I programmed."

"Thanks Raf," Aulora responded, already spotting the slightly, higher panel jutting out from the deck's surface.

"Wait…scuba gear!? Why do you get to go swimming?" he asked.

"You know how to scuba dive?" Aulora asked, pulling out a wet suit, flippers, goggles and an oxygen tank equipped with a mask.

"You do!?" Jack asked, still confused.

"Yes," Aulora stated matter-of-factly.

Jack watched, helpless as his cheeks grew hot to the touch as Aulora quickly stripped out off her outer clothes to reveal a small, Nike one piece, stunningly curving with her body, seemingly forgetting he was behind her.

"So, uhmm…what's, umm, the plan once we get you down there?" Jack asked, slowly clearing his throat of blockage his burning cheeks seemed to build.

"I'll travel down to Optimus with the cable. I'll swim back up and then we'll slowly pull him up. Thankfully, the winch is automatic so we don't have to manually haul him up. Once the vessel gets close enough to the island, we'll jump off with Optimus, and Ratchet will have a ground bridge right on its neighboring sand bar, so we don't have to make Optimus swim all the way out to the island," Aulora explained, expertly shimming her body into the skin tight wet suit. She walked over to the edge of the boat, her feet dangling over the water as she slipped into her flippers.

"Alright. Now let's just hope the limited crew doesn't decide to make a guest appearance," Jack said, turning back to look at the doors lining the opposite wall.

"You'll be fine, Jack. If you need back up, just call Miko," Aulora informed, slipping her arms through the oxygen pack straps and slipping the mask over her head.

"And who's going to be Miko's back-up?" Jack smirked.

"I heard that, Jack Rabbit," Miko sounded through his ear piece.

Aulora smiled at Miko's statement, finally pulling her goggles over her eyes and turning back to Jack, throwing him a thumbs up. And before he could through another one back to her, she gracefully slid off the side off the ship. Jack rushed to the edge, watching as Aulora's pencil dive beautifully sliced through the water. She popped her head back through the surface and waited as Jack slowly released the cable. Aulora swam back as the large metal hook slapped the water in front of her. She grabbed the rusted metal in her hand and turned back up at the peering teen.

"Good luck," he called down.

She gave a firm nod as she dived back into the water, the tips of her flippers the last thing Jack saw as she slipped under the waves, down to their helpless leader.

 

* * *

 

 

He wasn't drowning anymore.

For that he was eternally grateful.

But success never came without a price.

Instead of letting the anchor pull him down, he was pulling himself up, the of gravity acting against his leg.

He gridded his denta together every time he felt another wire rip and snap beneath the anchor's weight, a strong pulse of agony coursing through his leg, immediately followed by a dull numbness. It was slowly slicing its way through his shin, already having passed through his lower thigh and knee joint, the most painful of the anchor's excursion, and was now making its way through his thigh, where, hopefully, his thicker armor plating would slow its progression to his foot, where he knew he wouldn't be able to stop it from completely slicing straight through his pede's sensitive wiring and sinking back down to the bottom of the ocean. Then again, he wouldn't feel it's slow, agonizing torture anymore. The rust that was now growing rapidly not only all across his body, but inside of his open wound, was just simply a nuisance now. The Energon that had clouded the water around him moments before had now dissipated, and simply seeped into the water through spurts, each one occurring soon after the anchor sliced though another piece of internal wiring.

His horribly blurry vision soon found a small shape growing nearer with every second.

He started to panic.

What did he possess to fend this possibly large creature off?

The rust had spread all across his arms, making it nearly impossible to completely transform them into his swords or blasters. Swimming away was clearly not an option, being that his weak arms were the only thing allowing him to simply tread water at that moment. He was at a lost, at the mercy of whatever large creature inhabited the waters. He had not learned much of Earth's marine life since arriving on the planet, but his CPU reminded him that 75% of the Earth was covered with water. Such large quantities of liquid allowed the immense growth, in size, of such marine life.

Growth that could cause a problem for the still fairly large Cybertronian.

However, as the creature continued swimming towards him, he found it had 4 separate limbs, unlike the bountiful schools of fish that continually swam by him, which possessed only two side struts. This creature started to appear more and more…like a human.

And when it had finally made it close enough for Optimus to touch it, his hazy vision recognized its golden brown hair and piercing blue eyes…it was Aulora.

Optimus's eyes widened as he beheld the small teen, as she gave a small wave to the Autobot leader.

He also seemed to notice a hesitation.

She stayed a few yards from him, treading water in front of him, never indicating that she was coming any closer. And at such a close distance, Optimus could feel hints of fear that seemed to leak from her body and seep deep into his spark. It was such raw confusion and terror that he almost didn't blame the human for coming any closer.

But he was a leader.

And one thing he could not allow was fear of him.

That was one thing he had made sure, every cycle back on Cybertron, to not occur among his troops. He was not going to create a fearful command over his team. Respect, yes. But once that respect started to occur from complete and utter apprehension towards him, he had to put a stop to it. He looked right at her, his dizzy mind trying desperately to focus on her eyes as he gave her a firm nod, trying to show the small human that he did not, and never would, mean harm.

He knew she feared him, though she feared their new telepathy more, and it was time to erase that threshold.

It was time to overcome that fear.

He watched as she ever so slowly approached him, the fear that was in her mind slowly ebbing away, replaced by mild caution and concern, and to his amusement, her ever present curiosity. Her searching eyes immediately found the pierced anchor, and she swam down towards it. She looked back up at the Prime to watch his eyes as she slowly inspected the wound, watching as his optics scrunched in pain every once in a while.

It was then that Optimus realized she was carrying a large hook, attached to a thick cable that seemed to extend all the way up to the surface.

She swam back in front of his face and stretched out her arm with the hook in it.

How was she going to tell him what to do?

His comm link was clearly too overrun with rust to answer Ratchet's call and his fluttering optic lids suggested his vision wasn't going to see her hand movements. So then what? Her eyes widened in alarm and her heart squirmed with panic as one single thought came to her mind.

Mind language.

No, she couldn't.

She wouldn't.

But looking back at Optimus's poor state, she not only needed to fill him in on the plan; she needed to wake him up out of his dazed attention to focus on the problem at hand. His senses seemed to be numb with pain, and she needed to make sure he was well enough to hold onto the cable and not let go.

But how!?

She didn't know how the stupid thing worked!

Everything that had happened so far was by accident. She couldn't control any of it, even if she wanted to.

And she didn't want to!

The last thing she wanted to do was to sneak back into his mind and go through another tremor of flashbacks.

But she was wasting time.

She had about 10 more minutes before the ship would start moving again, and they'll have lost their chance.

She took a deep breath, and let the soft, ticklish bubbles squirm around her nose.

She closed her eyes and thought.

How did this work?

She was able to read his mind when she was asleep.

So maybe pretend she was asleep?

She slowly relaxed her body and let her mind settle comfortably into her brain.

Calm.

Nothing but calm.

She was about to grumble to herself, slapping herself for wasting time like this, when something faint suddenly flickered across her mind. It greatly surprised her, and at first she reeled back, but when the flicker returned, she felt her mind warm with ease under its touch. It felt fuzzy and tender, so gentle. With an ever so cautious touch she reached out to it, and let it ooze around her like slippery, affectionate honey. She felt like her mind was swimming in complete protection, and it finally dawned on her that that was Optimus's mind in hers. Its natural presence. She could feel Optimus's surprise from her mind in his, but with great gentleness, she tried to push reassurance through to him, to tell him it was her.

And then she concentrated; hard.

_Optimus, we don't have much time, so please listen carefully. This cable in my hand is attached to a shipping vessel above us. Jack and I will slowly pull you up to the surface, where Ratchet will have a ground bridge waiting for us at a passing sand bar. I don't mean to be rude, Optimus, but I need you to wake up and hold on tightly._

The leader stared wide-eyed up at the teenager, who weakly opened her eyes back open to her surroundings, gingerly rubbing her now aching head.

He couldn't believe it.

She had done it.

She had sent him a mental message.

He looked over to her still outstretched hand and took the cable's hook from her and firmly nodded his head that he understood the task.

Her eyes smiled back at him, as she kindly saluted to him and turned around back up to the surface, her flippers fluttering away back into the blue.

 

* * *

 

 

Jack gazed over the side of the ship once more, the anxiousness in his stomach growing heavier as his eyes were met with a still undisturbed surface. He returned to his pacing, stopping every few feet to turn back in the other direction and repeat the process. What was taking so long? He shouldn't have let Aulora travel down there alone. But what could he have done? The only thing he knew about swimming was the basic doggie-paddle, which he was brutally forced to learn at the age of 7 after his uncle threw him dozens of times into his cousins' pool with nothing but a bar-bell. He didn't know a thing about scuba diving, other than the fact that there was more to it than just doggie-paddling.

"Jack, has Aulora returned yet?" Ratchet asked through Jack's ear piece.

The teen sighed, ready to explain to Ratchet, for the gazillionth time that Aulora wasn't back yet, when a small dark splash of movement flickered beneath the surface, feet from the submerged cable.

"Hold on a sec, Ratchet," he responded, his eyes latched on the waters.

The teen's face suddenly lit up with relief as he watched small hands break through the surface's barrier and grab the cable, followed by Aulora's head and shoulders.

"She's here, Ratchet. She made it," Jack confirmed.

And off to his right, he could hear the roar of the freight's engine as it sprung to life, and almost lost his balance as it began to cruise through the waves once more. He turned down to Aulora who was still latched onto the cable. He kneeled down and craned his head over the side.

"How's Optimus holding up?" he yelled down.

"He's pretty drained, but once we get him back to Ratchet he'll be ok. I just hope he's strong enough to hold onto the cable," she yelled back up to him, ripping her goggles off of her head and letting them dangle around her neck, as the freight glided along the calm waves of the Indian Ocean.

 

* * *

 

 

**-first intentional interaction: though my head was slightly achy afterwards, the occurrence itself was rather easy. It seemed natural, like I had always known how to do it. Entering into Optimus's mind was an interesting feat. Upon initial entering, it felt like-**

Aulora's head whipped up from her notebook folded neatly in her lap to look around her backyard once more.

She had done this almost every second she returned home that afternoon.

Almost immediately after she got off of Arcee, she had this nagging feeling of something breathing down her neck, the little prickly goose-bumps raging across her arms and neck. She felt like someone's eyes were on her, even after she was safely locked away in her little condo. She double checked every shadow, and every noise, before unsettlingly climbing into the nice, warm shower and rinsing the salt water out of her hair. After slowly and anxiously eating her bowl of cereal, she pushed aside the screen door, letting the frigid night winter wind bellow across her large hoodie and sweatpants and plopped herself down on her patio, looking out to the darkness with a glaring fix, daring the unseen peeper to step out into the light. What was unsettling, though, was that she had had this feeling before. On the small trek from Bulkhead to the front door of her school, or on the walk from Arcee into the grocery store, the feeling seem to return and then disappear once she was out of immediate sight.

It was the strangest feeling, and now, she was just annoyed.

She squinted her eyes back out onto her yard, her outside lights only illuminating a small portion of her yard. She felt herself daring the nosy stalker in her mind, pleading with it to come closer just so she could whip out her cell phone and call the police.

Because now…now she was just irritated.

 

* * *

 

 

Bulkhead looked down at the scanner once more, confirming the small, flickering dot was still there.

"Where is it?" Bumblebee bleeped, turning his head in every direction.

"It should be just around the corner," Bulkhead answered, pushing his way through the tall brush and coming out around the corner of a tall boulder.

After their repairs had been made, Ratchet's steady and diligent work on Optimus had been interrupted by a located escape pod who's emergency beacon had just been activated in the outskirts of a small town in Wisconsin. Being that Arcee was instructed to stay off of her knee for a little while, Bumblebee and Bulkhead's already recovering forms were sent out to investigate.

"Bulk, over there," Bumblebee said, pointing to a medium sized pod that had been buried amongst the thick vegetation.

Both Autobots instinctively activated their blasters and cautiously approached the ship. Once Bulkhead was within feet of the pod, he transformed his left blaster back into his hand and brushed away the pile of broken branches that had cluttered the door of the ship. The door of the pod bore the Decepticon symbol, but its head antennas were extended higher and its empty optic sockets had been filled with black, chipped paint.

Below it were 3 words.

'Though neither Bulkhead nor Bumblebee were able to read the ancient Cybertronian writing, the too familiar symbol was indicator enough.

"The Decepticon Justice Division," Bumblebee said out loud. He could hear the Wrecker shudder beside him.

"I thought those guys were just ol' Miners' tales," Bulkhead said.

"I knew a bot that had defected to the Autobots sometime during the war. He went out on a solo mission to Vos to retrieve an intel disk from a group Optimus had stationed there to help evacuate the Neutrals. When no one heard back from him, I was sent out with a few others to find him. We found his body in an abandoned factory. His spark, voice box and optics had been ripped straight out of his body and someone had painted the word 'traitor' on his chassis along with that symbol," Bumblebee explained, weakly nodding to the door panel, his first memories of the war returning to his mind.

"So why would they have an escape pod? If those tales were right, all these guys love to do was torture," Bulkhead asked.

"It was probably from their ship, the Peaceful Tyranny," Bumblebee beeped.

"So one of them could be on Earth? Right now!?" Bulkhead exclaimed.

"No, they all kicked the dust towards the end of the war. We had a mole within their ranks, who sent them fake intel of a rogue Decepticon. This was towards the end of the war, so they were pretty over-confident. We lured them into an Energon mine and blew the roof off the place. No one walked out of there," the young scout explained, peering around the pod's sides for any signs of escape.

"So we're looking at an escaped prisoner," Bulkhead commented, following the scout's idea.

"I don't know. Probably," he beeped. His eyes suddenly flew open, as he motioned Bulkhead to the pod's backside. The two Autobots stared at a large, gaping hole.

"Bet yah that's how he got out," Bumblebee said, chortling when he spied Bulkhead's "no kidding" expression.

"Yeah, but look at the edges. They look like…claw marks," Bulkhead said.

"What in the world were they holding?" Bumblebee asked.

The Wrecker shrugged, already comming in to Ratchet, explaining their findings.

Or rather their lack of.

 

* * *

 

 

Aulora slammed her eyelids shut with frustration, slammed her notebook onto the patio and stood up from the ground.

"Alright, that's it! No more peek-a-boo games," she called out to the still darkness.

"I promise I won't call the police," she added a little calmer, fairly confident it was simply a boy from school.

A small movement zipped across the edge of the illuminated patio and Aulora's head whipped around to meet it.

"Come on. Just come out," she said, almost pleading with the unseen force.

She gasped and watched fascinated as the flickering shadow now came back to the light, but stopped. Slowly, more pieces of shadow whished over to the stationary shadow, twirling in a steady circle. Aulora quickly backed away from the spectacle, but tripped over a raised rock and fell on her butt. She stared up in fear as the group of shadows grew taller, slowly filling in the shape of a creature. And like a wave of paint brush, the shadows glided over its body, giving the creature color and texture, the empty holes filling in with hard edges and curves, it's skin dipping and gripping into sharp shapes and forms across its body.

Aulora stared up wide eyed at the thing before.

It seemed to have the body of a tiger, but it was clearly larger than an Earth one. On all four legs, it was easily her height, its long tail also probably the length of her body. It had two, large yellow glimmering eyes that glared down at her with…suspicion. And taking another look at its sleek body texture, another thought hit her.

It was Cybertronian.

She was slowly starting to her feet, when the creature gave a heart-wrenching growl and stepped closer to her, its razor-like claws grating against the stone beneath its feet, and she retreated back to the ground.

"That would not be a wise decision. It would also be a sensible choice to avoid contacting your Autobot allies," he instructed, his voice rumbling with the force of an earthquake, deep and commanding.

Aulora almost chuckled to herself.

_Why couldn't it have been a Peeping Tom?_

 


	8. Lost Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate of A Shooting Star: Comes Back To Haunt  
> Lost Soul
> 
> Optimus Prime and his team jump straight into action as a series of ancient relics crash land on Earth, but is it all that safe to uncover the past so readily, when it was buried for a reason. And why does Aulora start to feel like she's being watched?

She could hear her heavy breathing, her heart bracing against her rib cage, trying desperately to break through and escape somewhere safe, because the menacing yellow optics that were staring at her held mixed emotions of either complete hatred or blood-thirsty hunger. But his threatening, looming body was warning enough that one small move was a deadly decision.

Though every nerve and instinct screamed at her to high-tail it out of there, her curious eyes couldn't help but completely stumble in awe at the beauty of his form.

His rather large powerful body continued to tickle with the shadows the creature seemed to appear from, his metal armor seem to waver with catches of light and blankets of darkness, much like the glimmering shadows that seemed to breathe straight from his body. Above each of his paws were 4 small struts that expanded at an upward angle, the underneath of his tail also licked with the same design. His metal body wasn't smooth and straight like the other Autobots. Like a rib cage, there were thick jagged pieces of metal, evenly spaced between each other by a subtle dip in his armor, giving the creature the appearance as if he actually had the stripes of a tiger. Suddenly, Aulora's eyes spotted a disturbance in his "stripes"; there was a rather large hole in his side, where Energon began to slowly trickle down from it, splashing against her patio. How had she not noticed that before? Of course, the begging question if Cybertronians could actually eat meat was pretty much where she held her main concern. She turned back up to the creature's captivating eyes once more.

"You're hurt," she commented. She internally slapped her head. She had not just asked that, did she? The creature was clearly compelled to rip every limb from her body and she had the tenacity to ask about its well-being. She didn't know if that took guts, or complete stupidity.

He scoffed. "That is not of your concern," he grumbled, every hair on Aulora's body standing on end, completely moved once again by his gut-wrenching voice.

"But I can help you. I know someone-"

"Was I not clear!? There is to be no contact made with the Autobots!" he exclaimed, leaping forward, his legs landing by Aulora's side, his head inches from hers, baring his teeth with every word that grumbled through his throat.

Aulora skeptically studied his eyes once more. His eyes looked like they were losing their hold on its stable confidence, as they squirmed with irritation. He was afraid. But of what? It clearly wasn't her. So then the Autobots. Is that why he didn't want her contacting them? It's not that he didn't need them interfering with whatever plans he had for her. He was scared of them. But why?

"They won't hurt you, yah know," she calmly reassured.

"How are you so sure!" he bellowed at her. "I deserve death for the sins I have committed!" he screamed into her face, his voice echoing throughout her frigid body, his eyes helplessly withering in complete and utter fear. She could see his form slowly shaking with fatigue.

"No one deserves death. No matter what they did," she said, trying to make eye contact with him.

"A foolish belief only pure of heart would contort," he grumbled cruelly, his vicious teeth inches from her face, though she knew his hatred-soaked words were directed more to himself than her. She pitied the creature before her. He was lost soul, plagued with darkness.

"No one deserves pain when we have the ability to forgive," she replied. "And I know you believe in forgiveness after what you just did," she added.

His trailing gaze whipped with deadly speed back to hers, his eyes scrunching with deep, mutated anger, as he released a heart-stopping growl from deep within his stomach.

"What do you mean!?" he demanded. She noticed that as he tried to menacingly stomp his paws on the ground, his left hind leg slipped weakly beneath the force, and simply hung limp above the ground.

"You were afraid of the Autobots. You didn't want them to find you. And yet you revealed yourself to me after I simply asked you to. You want to be forgiven, you just don't think you can be," she explained.

His eyes widened with shock as he let her words sink, and then he began furiously shaking his head, as if that would rid his head of such thoughts, as he slowly stepped back from his attack pose over the small human.

"What's your name?" Aulora asked, quietly. She needed to gain his trust.

He slowly cocked his head to the side, trying to figure out if the tiny organic before him truly possessed such foolishness to begin conversation with a beast that could rip her apart like a cleanly sheathed sword. Her eyes, though still strangled by the familiar stench of fear, encompassed a deep coursing flow of…compassion; of love. She seem to look at him with complete sympathy, her eyes filled with such pure gentleness, he began to squirm with insecurity beneath them and turned his eyes away.

"For the crimes I have committed against Cybertron, I have been branded with the title of Proditor," he snarled to the young human, the tips of his lips curling with viciousness.

"Proditor, Latin for traitor," she said out loud to herself. She turned her gaze back up to the creature, his body still looming over half of her body.

"Well, my name is Aulora," she quietly responded. His eyes never left their gaze on the ground, but his ears delicately twitched with every word she said.

 

* * *

 

 

"Well, it's been a long day," Arcee said, smiling as she lazily stretched out her arms and plopped herself down on a nearby container.

"Ain't that the truth," Bumblebee tiredly beeped, practically collapsing onto the ground, gently leaning his still sore door wings against Arcee's container.

"How's the boss doing?" Bulkhead asked Ratchet, resting his fatigued body against the raised ground level.

"I placed him into a medically induced stasis so I could effectively treat his leg and back. He'll awaken from it shortly," the medic replied, peering over at his resting leader before returning his gaze back to the computer screen.

"If it wasn't for Aulora, he might still be at the bottom of the ocean," Arcee commented, the gravity of her statement terrifying the Autobots that their leader had been so defenseless and with no promise of substantial back-up.

"We are certainly fortunate her plan was effective as it was. I would've been capable of retrieving Optimus, but it would've come with the cost of extensive damage to your bodies," Ratchet replied from his stance.

His eyes turned back up to the screen, as his eyes scrunched, a sudden though coursing through his head. He quickly pushed aside his latest project on the computer screen and began typing in a batch of numbers.

"Ratchet, what are you doing?" Arcee asked, looking on with confusion.

"I just wish to check in with Aulora. She was too stubborn to stick around and allow me to watch her vitals, so a quick phone call should ease my suspicions of possible viral hydrate diseases or lung failure," he responded.

The young scout could not help but smile and roll his eyes at the quite anxious doctor, knowing his suspicions were never truly satisfied.

 

* * *

 

 

She watched anxiously as the large creature continued to pace in front of her, each loop around slower than the last, as his depleted Energon reserves started taking its toll. The blue, sticky substance continued to ooze across every patio tile, completely covering the ground in a beautiful, glimmering azure.

He needed help. And fast.

She was surprised he had lasted so long with such little Energon. Though his currently weak state indicated that he was not far from collapsing, he kept shaking his head, as if trying to ward off the spell of sleep itself. She needed to call Ratchet, or any of the other Autobots in general. But how could she without Proditor seeing. His agitation grew with every drop of Energon that fell to the ground below it, and contacting the very people he told her not to didn't seem like the wisest of decisions.

What she wanted to know was what exactly his motive was. Judging by his injuries, she assumed he crashed landed. So it was easy to also assume that all of those times she felt someone was spying on her, it was Proditor watching her. But why her in particular? Sure, he was going to follow any possible allies of the Autobots, but that still left Jack, Miko and Raf. What did she have that they didn't? Until the thought suddenly occurred to her; she lacked a guardian. All of the others had an Autobot that watched over them day in and day out. He would've been immediately sniffed out and dealt with if he had stalked any of the others. But a human without a guardian, who comes home to an empty house every night-she was the ultimate target. She was every kidnapper's Christmas wish.

Would Proditor kidnap her? Probably not, being that he would've done so about an hour ago. So then he was holding her hostage. But for what purpose? If he was looking for a ransom or simply the Autobot's attention, he wouldn't have waited so long, especially considering the condition he was in. The smart thing to have done was to take her hostage and as a reward for her safe return home, he would be granted medical attention from Ratchet. Boom. From what she heard, Starscream had already pulled that trick off a little while ago, so it could be done. But Proditor didn't seem the Decepticon type. If anything, he seemed like an enraged neutral. A desperate soul caught up in the webs of war. He didn't seem like he held any specific allegiance to anybody.

Of course, in a sense, neither did Starscream, though he was second lieutenant to Megatron. But something about Proditor was different. Aside from the fact that he was the first Cybertronian…animal she had ever seen, being the fact she never knew Cybertron had animals, there was something about him that made her want to scratch her mind free of a growing itch. She couldn't put a finger on it, but it seemed almost her instinct telling her that he was…safe. That she was safe. Of course another glance at his hand-sized claws and very cleanly cut teeth warned the girl that her spidey-sense should be blaring horns right now. And he believed he deserved death for the "sins he committed"?! Why was she not completely freaking out!? Sure her heart was having a spasm right now, and her nerves were fried with fear. But she felt that way on the top of Ferris wheel; mild anxiety. The kind of mild anxiety you get when you're handed a test you completely forgot to study for, or you can't seem to find your phone. Proditor wasn't a bombed history test of a lost iPhone. He was a flippin' car-sized, distressed robotic tiger who had a mind of its own!

Suddenly she felt her heart clamp shut and fall like rock in the pit of her stomach as MKTO's "Classic" echoed across the patio. With horrific speed, Proditor thrashed his head towards her.

"What is that noise!?" he yelled, his eyes scrunching into deadly daggers.

She reached into her hoodie's large front pocket and held her phone out to him to see. He rushed over to it, peering at the flashing screen and upon reading the caller id, whipped his head back and released a terrifying roar into the night sky. Aulora peered down at the relatively close neighbors. Was everyone a sound sleeper?

"I warned you to have no contact with your Autobot allies!" he roared, his eyes tearing her apart.

"I didn't. It's probably just Ratchet checking up on me," she responded.

"I don't care! Do not answer him!" he shouted.

"But if I don't pick up, he's going to get suspicious and drive down here to check up on me," she answered. Wait a minute, she thought to herself. Did she just help him out!? Why did she even open her mouth!? She could've just let the phone ring, and in less than 10 minutes have Ratchet and no doubt the rest of the other Autobots on her doorstep. How could she have been so stupid!?

He watched her warily, his eyes glaring with suspicion. Though the child before did have logic within her reasoning, there had to be another motive in her statement. Who would help him out? The answer was no one, and it wasn't about to stop with the small native life form before him. But he had observed how protective the Autobots had been with the humans, and he knew that an unanswered call would certainly draw attention. He reluctantly nodded. He watched as she hesitantly opened her phone.

"Aulora?"

"Hey, Ratchet," she answered.

"Why weren't you picking up the phone? Are you alright?"

Aulora couldn't help but smile. Nothing got by that medic.

"Uh, yeah Ratchet. I was just doing some laundry, sorry," she answered.

"Very well. I was just inquiring about an update of your well being, nothing more," he responded.

"I'm fine, Ratchet, really. But thank you for check in."

"No abnormal exhalation patterns or any signs of an irregular circulatory system configuration?" he asked.

"No, nothing out of the ordinary. I do appreciate the concern."

"Yes, yes, yes. Expect a follow up call at approximately 10 o'clock PM, and then I expect that when Rafael and Bumblebee stop by tomorrow morning you are still in bed. After all that has occurred this week, I expect you to be getting plenty of rest," he responded.

"I will. Hey Ratchet?"she asked.

"Yes, Aulora."

"You should probably check the distributor hub on the ground bridge controls. It sounded off this morning," Aulora responded.

"Very well. Ratchet, out."

She closed the phone and looked up at the expectant eyes of the beast before her. This was it. She needed to make sure everything went according to plan. She needed to stall.

"So what are you going to do now?" she asked.

He waited silently for her to continue, the corners of his mouth already curling into a growl.

"You can't just keep me prisoner here forever. You'll either collapse from your injuries or the Autobots will come, guns-a-blazing, looking for me," she explained, keeping her voice soft and calm.

The creature was suddenly on top of her, his yellow eyes mere inches from hers, as she felt his warm, rigid breath scratch against her cheeks.

"I would advise you to stay quiet!" he bellowed, the last word escaping in almost a whisper as his entire left side crumpled and his body gave out, as the large creature collapsed in a heap.

"Proditor!" Aulora screamed, scrambling on her hands and knees over to his side. She gently laid her hands upon his extremely cold body, as his entire form began shaking violently, his eyes trained limply on the ground.

"Proditor, can you hear me? I think you're going into shock. I need to stop the bleeding," she explained, already slipping off her hoodie and pressing it hard against the gaping hole in his side. His eyes turned weakly up to her, but he made no move to stop her, his world spinning and his movements numb.

Aulora could feel chilly tears rushing down her face and over her chin, as she watched the still violently trembling beast before her. She watched as his leaking Energon was already starting to stain the edges of her hoodie, and Proditor eyes seemed to simultaneously being to flutter and close.

"Come on, Proditor. Please stay with me!" she called out to him, his body slowly easing into an almost empty and hollow unconsciousness.

Her eyes turned to the exhale of a great gust of wind, her backyard lighting up with the beautiful electric waves of the ground bridge. She watched as Bumblebee and Arcee flew out, their guns loaded as they searched the area for threats, their eyes finally falling upon Aulora. Ratchet was the last to exit, walking out of the ground bridge to behold the small, battered and exhausted teen, clamping a rather soaked cloth of some sort upon the gaping wound of a…

"By the Allspark," Ratchet gasped, eyes widening as they fell upon the fallen creature.

"Ratchet, is that who I think it is?" Arcee asked, her eyes trained warily on the large beast, the defenseless human huddled next to him.

"Aulora, are you well enough to stand?" Ratchet asked urgently, Arcee and Bumblebee nodding their heads in unison at the medic's plan. The small teenager slowly nodded her head.

"Very good. I need you to slowly back away from him. Take it nice and easy, no sudden movements," he instructed calmly, Arcee's legs already twitching.

The young human was about to argue that he was unconscious, and there was no need to fear him, but she followed the field medic's instructions. She took one last pitiful look towards the creature's cold, almost lifeless body and slowly slid her legs out and pushed herself quietly and slowly away from the beast. With lightening speed, Arcee swooped in and grabbed Aulora from the ground, holding her close to her chassis as Bumblebee simultaneously jumped right up to the lying beast, his guns trained directly on him.

"Are you ok?" Arcee asked, looking down at the small human cuddled in her palm. Aulora gave a small smile and a nod.

"Arcee, get Aulora back to base and send Bulkhead back with stasis cuffs," Ratchet instructed. Arcee nodded firmly as she practically ran back through the ground bridge, Aulora still clutched tightly against her.

"So how'd you know Aulora was in trouble?" Bumblebee asked, never letting his eyes trail from the limp beast in front of him.

"I was rather concerned when it came to my attention that Aulora's uncle had not been in Jasper yet, and would most likely not for a while. So upon my request, I had her create a code phrase to use if she was ever in trouble, no matter the circumstances. She was well aware a ground bridge does not have a distributor hub, and thus chose it," Ratchet explained, kneeling down to peer at the legendary monster before him.

 

* * *

 

 

"Scrap, Ratchet! What are we supposed to do!?" Bulkhead exclaimed.

"We aren't doing anything. I am helping our patient," Ratchet clarified, briefly looking up from his work on the sleeping giant, his welders fresh with heat, to address the distressed Wrecker.

"And what are we supposed to do after that!? We can't keep it!" Bulkhead exclaimed.

"We can't set it free on the human population either," Arcee commented.

"What is it, exactly?" Jack asked from in between Miko and Raf, who were seated on the steps to the raised level, instructed by their guardians that that was the closest they were going to get to the creature's medical bay.

"It's an Ater Tigris," Bumblebee said, almost shuddering with every word.

"A what?!" Miko asked.

"Ater Tigris. They were a peaceful group of creatures that roamed the mountainous regions of Cybertron during its Golden Age. But the war slowly brought about their downfall, as their packs were caught out in the middle of fire, for they were not known to attack…anything for that matter," Ratchet started.

"Until Megatron's sick mind began working overdrive," Bulkhead added.

"Shockwave, after raiding a small chain of Autobot weapon depots, was able to attain the correct equipment to construct a mind control patch that would allow him to access a Cybertronians main frame and bend him to his will," Ratchet said, disgust drooling from his mouth.

"Being that the device was still in its early stages, Megatron suggested a primitive mind to test the weapon out on. And so they went out on a hunt for a Lamina Tigris, for the foolish Lord of Darkness did not realize the mental capacity these creatures possess," Ratchet continued.

"But isn't it impossible to catch one?" Arcee asked.

"Why's that?" Raf asked.

"Due to the fact Lamina Tigris were not programmed to fight, they possessed an ability to counteract that defect. It was the ability to molecularly break down their bodies' cell components to…blend in, so to speak, with the shadows around him. An advanced form of camouflage, if you will," Ratchet explained further.

"They can become a shadow!? Wicked!" Miko exclaimed.

"No one knew how Megatron obtained one, but he did. And Shockwave had his ways with the poor creature, turning him into the ultimate Autobot hunter. His rage and fury were legendary. With one flip of a switch, the Cons were known to let the beast loose upon a Neutral city in order to encourage Decepticon allegiance. When they refused, it took the creature no less than an Earth hour to wipe through the town, leaving no life behind it," Ratchet explained gravely.

"He left nothing in one piece," Bumblebee added.

"After time, though, the Lamina Tigris was able to escape Megatron and it was rumor he aided the Autobots from time to time, though he always kept himself hidden. And no one heard from him after that, at least…until now," Ratchet said, looking down at his patient.

"So that's what must've landed in the DJD pod," Bulkhead added.

"But what was he doing on their ship to begin with?" Arcee asked.

"Maybe he never did leave the 'Con cause," Bumblebee said.

"So what are you going to do to him? Lock 'em up? Send 'em back to the 'Cons?" Miko asked, almost impatiently.

"I'll leave that for Optimus to decide once he has fully rested. But until then, I do not want any of you coming near him, is that understood?" Ratchet demanded, glaring first at the human children and then at the other Autobots.

"I have worked on hundreds of victims that have perished by this creature's hand. Whether he abandoned his ways or not, he is capable of unspeakable torture and pain," he gravely explained.

 

* * *

 

 

He made his way evenly down the hallway, his steady footfall echoing across the empty hallways. Every few seconds, a grimace would cross his face as he felt all of the tiny salt particles scratch and grind between his armor and protoform and in between his joint components. At this late at night, the young Prime believed it the most efficient time to take a much-needed, warm hydrochloric shower, not only to thoroughly scrub off all of the excess saltwater from his body…but to allow the mech to think. He needed some time, and some pace, to ponder what exactly should be done about the wounded war legend in stasis. Every notion he contemplated over never seemed to completely serve justice in anyone's case. He had even stopped to listen to the Matrix for a few seconds, to see what advice it would give him, the operative words being "few seconds." He needed a little while to consider the options before him.

He stopped a few yards before the wash room upon hearing a small intake of breath; a human breath. Further observation revealed to Optimus a subtle, fowl stench that had accumulated in the air. Though it was merely a whiff of the substance, the smell itself already dissipating, it reminded Optimus of the grotesque matter Ratchet had been cleaning out of Bulkhead's hub-space after he had kept Miko in there during a training session with Bumblebee, the Wrecker explaining that the young human had called it "vomit", much similar to a Cybertronian's act of purging. He slowly peered into the wash room, glancing over the several, large dividers Ratchet had installed as makeshift stalls, and the few human lavatory stalls, to finally find the source of the noise…and stench.

Huddled against the opposite wall, Optimus beheld Aulora's small, hunched form, her hands cuddled limply in her lap, as her eyes stared limply on the ground ahead of her. They appeared empty, as if the beautiful, lively blue that was once there had been replaced by an overcast of grey that lingered like smoke. He could spot the small glimmering of a single tear that was slowly trenching its way down her face. The windows to the soul, an old friend had once described them as. The optics were the opening to everything inside of a mech. And here, it appeared that the soul almost seemed to be…missing. A lost soul.

A lost soul.

He couldn't help but watch as the memory unfurled before him.

_Everyone had left the command center. All talking had ceased, leaving the large, spacious room a chamber of echoes. Everyone was resting. It had been a long day. While the Decepticons were no doubt celebrating their astounding achievement, the Autobots were left to grieve and mourn over the beautiful city, the warriors that had stayed to protect it and the dear friends that had not made it out. Praxus had officially fallen that day. It hadn't been unexpected. The Decepticons had continually overrun the large city with millions of it troops and had made it clear to the Autobot-favoring city-state that it was indeed a target. But the Autobots believed they stood a chance. And when the bombs sounded across Cybertron, their echoes still resonating across the now barren and empty city, everyone stood speechless. No one had wanted this day to come, when the Decepticons would lose patience and simply destroy everything. But it did. And while the Decepticons were recounting their masses and most likely preparing for their next attack, the Autobots retreated to their bunkers and chambers, their hollow, empty sobs reverberating across the silent hallways, their cries scratching at his spark. The mech continued further down the hallway, pushing aside the moans and cries of despair, almost smiling to himself at the sound of familiar servos flying across a keyboard. Of course he was awake, the mech thought to himself. He came upon the entrance of the command center and watched with pity as his former pupil kept his eyes directly on the screens above him, continuing to type as if his very spark depended on it. His large shoulders were hunched over the controls, his body clearly worn out and exhausted. But he kept going. He almost didn't hear the mech approaching him from behind until his hand was upon his shoulder, and he watched amused as his former pupil almost jumped straight from his chair, his tired eyes turning around to behold with him complete fright._

_"I'm sorry, Optimus. I didn't mean to frighten you," he answered with a large grin on his face._

_The young mech's face plate immediately began to relax as he beheld his old mentor._

_"It's alright," he replied._

_Alpha Trion turned his attention to the overhead screen._

_"It's a tragedy, isn't it?" the librarian asked._

_"Indeed," Optimus replied, the familiar emptiness filling his voice once more. His mentor turned his optics back down to look at him._

_"Have they found any survivors?" Alpha Trion asked._

_"Prowl and Jazz reported in a little while ago to inform me they have leadership over a large group of Praxians they were able to evacuate before the bombs were dropped and are on route to Iacon at the moment," the Last Prime explained._

_"What about your search teams? Have they returned with any survivors?" Alpha Trion pondered further._

_"All teams returned empty handed, except for Team 32, who returned a short while ago with a youngling," he explained._

_"Oh yes, the little yellow Praxian Ironhide found beneath the rubble. Ratchet and Red Alert introduced me to him on my way down here. Such a shame to grow up amidst war without a carrier or sire," the old Prime commented._

_The young Prime simply grunted his reply._

_He observed his young pupil harder, almost unable to recognize him beneath the new, tumbling weight of Cybertron he now bore on his shoulders._

_"You look like a lost soul, my dear Orion," the librarian commented._

_"I beg your pardon," Optimus said, turning confused to his skeptical mentor._

_"A lost soul. A spark that has lost its way. It's not your fault, Optimus," the mentor replied, switching back to his current designation._

_"I am aware of that, Alpha Trion," Optimus replied, though not too convincingly._

_"I am not referring to Praxus," Alpha Trion clarified, his optics burning deeper through Optimus's._

_The young Prime raised his eyebrows in confusion, until he finally realized what his mentor had been implying. His gaze fell to the keyboard in front of him._

_His mentor knew him well, and knew this was the signal that indicated the slow decline his pupil would take away from society. He would brood within his-self and push away everyone, until the pain festered into a hardened rock, which is what the mech preferred. Instead of a hot, melting pain, a hardened pain could be stacked and packed away for another time. He knew he was fading fast._

_"Orion, would you accompany me on a walk? I wish to see that spritely little Praxian again," Alpha Trion stated, a large grin on his face._

_The young Prime turned to his old mentor with complete confusion etched into his faceplate. Though he knew from millions of previous arguments and conversations that he was not going to win this conversation, he was still interested in what exactly the old librarian had going on in the back of his mind. Though he knew his mentor had always had a soft spot for younglings, he felt something else going on underneath._

_"Come on, Orion. That poor thing is all alone with Ratchet," Alpha Trion chuckled, already grabbing his pupil by the arm and pulling him along. Optimus stumbled after him._

_"And just like that little Praxian, I was not about to leave you alone," Alpha Trion added, his previous grin replaced with a serious expression._

_"A lost soul always needs a little guidance."_

A lost soul. Little had his mentor known he had been one all his life. But watching the sullen girl before him reminded him of a small mech years ago. Lost and alone in the Hall of Records, it was an old librarian who penetrated his fortress and welcomed him back to the land of the living. His mentor helped him back.

And now it was his time to be a mentor in return.

 

 


	9. Guilt Tattoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate of A Shooting Star: Comes Back To Haunt  
> Guilt Tattoo
> 
> Optimus Prime and his team jump straight into action as a series of ancient relics crash land on Earth, but is it all that safe to uncover the past so readily, when it was buried for a reason. And why does Aulora start to feel like she's being watched?

"Aulora?"

She looked up at him, startled. She quickly rubbed at her swollen eyes desperately trying to wipe the tears away. She almost hit herself. She had just been caught crying by Optimus Prime. She was totally sending that moment to 17 Magazine for their next month's Trauma-Mama section.

"Sorry, Optimus. I didn't see you there," she responded, the young mech noticing her sticky, scratchy voice. She had been crying for a while. Optimus deduced that her stomach had not been able to handle the devastating state the Ater Tigris had been found in.

"There is no need for apologies, Aulora. May I…sit down?" he asked, gesturing to the space beside her. She returned her gaze to the ground and weakly nodded her head. Great, she thought to herself. He was going to stay.

The Autobot leader crouched down to the ground and let his back fall against the wall, as he stretched his left leg out straight and bent the other up to his chest, letting his right arm rest on his knee. An empty and calm silence passed between the two as they let their thoughts settle.

And the impact following was nothing short of…indescribable.

Upon the almost immediate settling of his body on the ground, Optimus felt like he had immediately immersed himself in a field of high-voltage energy. He couldn't see anything, but the feeling of static dancing about his skin made him shudder with uncertainty. However, as he let his uncertain mind relax, he suddenly felt a heavy, warm force swimming around his mind. It jumped and skittered with fear and anxiety all about his mind, creating tiny ripples of force that pulsed against his mind. The feeling was beyond words. It reminded him of his body in water, only now his mind was. The almost cosmic energy rippled like waves around him, curiously wavering along the patterns and folds of his brain. But there was something so familiar about the energy, it tugged deep within his spark. The way it curiously poked and slithered along the inside of his thoughts, the way it seemed to glow with love and gentleness…he was somehow reveling in Aulora's subconscious. He wasn't in it, rather it was around him. It was as if there were no longer two, solid bodies sitting next to each other. Rather, the two bodies had molded to form one large subconscious, two minds weaving in and out of each other, each one feeding off of the other. It was as if they were one…substance. Her thoughts were simply there, dancing right on his fingertips, every emotion playing across his spark as if it were his own.

And they were horrible.

He could feel his stomach twisting with her raw discomfort upon seeing Proditor's wounds. And as he traveled further along the surface of her thoughts, the image of Proditor's battered form replayed in her mind. Something about the event seemed to trigger something within the teen. The cause was too intense and intricate for Optimus to dig away at, but it was buried deep down within her soul, and it was painful. He could feel her immediate uneasiness of his presence alone there. Though he could sense and feel her small bit of care towards him, the mind read during the ocean certainly easing the tension between the two, she still felt afraid. Not of him. From what he could gather, she seemed to be deeply intrigued by him. The folds of her mind seem to warm at the idea of his presence beside her. However, she never relished in the warmth for too long, for the idea of another mental attack scared her deeply.

_You look like a lost soul,_   _my dear Orion._

Was this what he had looked like? Someone with such a large mind, and an equally large heart trying to act as small as possible. Big curious eyes sunken deep into the safe corners of the head, trying to avoid contact. A body shivering and shuffling further into the corner away from others. Did he look like that? Someone that had such a split body. While seemingly unfazed on the outside, her insides seemed to be pulling further and further away from the rest of the world, sinking deeper and deeper into a chasm of chains it had created to lock away everything from sight. Oh how lost she looked. What had his mentor done? Though he was certainly no mentor-figure in Aulora's eyes, she needed guidance. He thought back to the old librarian.

He had started conversation; something to draw him back to the outside world.

"Proditor is expected to make a full recovery," Optimus reported. He watched as Aulora slowly nodded her head. Optimus realized that amidst Arcee's questioning, having Aulora go through every little piece of detail regarding last night, she had never been informed of what exactly was happening around her. And upon remembering her rather fragile state, he was able to sense from her that she vomited due to her inability to stomach the injuries Predator had sustained. He remembered her face had been deathly pale during Ratchet's first attempts to revive the fallen creature.

He watched her as she continue to wallow in her own world, her body almost shut down from the outside world. But Alpha Trion was right. As a mentor, as a leader, as a Telonian partner, he was not going to let her fall back down again.

"I want to personally thank you for rescuing me this morning," Optimus replied, looking down at the small human beside him. He watched as her shoulders arched up into a shrug, the field of psychological energy slightly rippling with a colorful blast of a shimmering wave. A nerve had been peeked with interest.

"It was a group effort," she responded.

Another lapse of silence. Optimus looked back down at the girl and could not help but stare in complete fascination at how much of himself he saw within her. It almost felt like it was yesterday that that small, huddled form was him, cramped tightly between the evenly spaced bookshelves on the Halls top level, hiding from the rest of the world. Granted, he had been younger than Aulora, but the blank stare, the raw stomach, the trembling hands…it was astounding to feel he was looking into a mirror. It suddenly pained him that he had left the teenager alone to stumble through the uneasiness of this burden all on her own. He grumbled to his passive attitude in attempting to help Aulora through this rather interesting time. She had had no one there for her, and he left it like that, believing if she had need something, she would've come to him. But would he have gone to Alpha Trion? Absolutely not. And neither would've Aulora. He shouldn't have been eager to assume differently.

"Aulora, it has come to my knowledge that I have not been very forthcoming with you for the past few days, and vice versa," the young Prime started, watching as Aulora peered up at him, waiting for him to continue.

"I believe I can speak for the both of us in saying that we have let our fears of our new connection distance us in attempts to ensure such a mental attack will not occur again," he continued. He slowly felt the tingly uneasiness slowly subside from the energy bubbling around him. It was melting away, replaced by a sense of welcoming; a sense of belonging.

"However, I have been notified that such measures are not the wisest to be taking, and I believe that if we are to ever overcome our fears and our tribulations, we must learn to trust each other," he added, watching as Aulora's eyes grew wider with curiosity.

"So, being that it is clear neither of us are very informative of our more personal challenges, I suggest we approach this with a fair compromise. I will solicit a question, and for compensation for your answer, you will be able to ask me one," he implied. He watched intently as her pure, crystal eyes scurried around in thought, his spark lifting as her own heart seemed to elate.

She nodded. "A question for a question; sounds like a deal," she replied, rather quietly, but a small smile growing on her lips.

"Very well. My first question is in regards to this morning. I was interested in how you were able to convey a Telonian message so…efficiently and remarkably," he asked. This earned another shoulder shrug, as she kept her eyes trained on the ground, though he knew this time he had her attention.

"Well, when I was asleep, I was in your…mind…again, so I thought if I let my mind relax like I do when I'm sleeping, I would be able to control it this time," she answered. Optimus felt her sentence was withholding more than she was letting on, but he let it go. He was making too much progress to force her back into her burrowed seclusion.

"Alright, my turn," she said, turning back up to lock onto his eyes. His spark brightened at the shimmering returning to her eyes. "There's a group of voices in your head that keep calling you Orion…and they don't seem to really like me," she replied, and she almost gasped at the small smile that had formed on Optimus's face. It looked so…foreign on him. But at the same time, the way his eyes illuminated with his small gesture seemed to signal that Optimus had done this quite often.

"Those are the collected sparks of the Primes before myself. And do not be offended by their distrust in you. They almost never seem to be partial to anyone, for that matter," he answered.

"Wait, so they can talk to you?" she asked, Optimus almost smiling once again as he watched a sparkle of life twinkle deep within her bright eyes. He also ignored the fact that she had asked two questions.

"The Matrix of Leadership contains the collected wisdom of the Primes, meaning it creates a direct outlet to the Well of Allsparks where their sparks reside," he answered.

"But they're Primes. I thought they were supposed to be, I don't know…nice. They seem really mean to you," she replied.

"At first, they were a favorable collection of advisors. I was always listening to their ever persistent advice. However, as my time as Prime lingered on, I have done things that were very unbecoming of a Prime, and to some extent an offense against the Matrix. And their wisdom so became ridicule and slander, though I can hardly blame them," he answered, keeping his eyes trained on Aulora's, for they were the only ones keeping his mind steady. He had never indulged that information to anyone, not even Alpha Trion, his most trusted mentor. The crimes he had committed against the Code of the Primes, and their plague of hatred following was something he never wished or imagined he would share with someone else. It almost terrified him he had been so open with the human youngling before him. But the intense connection the two were experiencing, almost gave the Prime the impression that he was simply relaying the information to himself, he felt that close to her.

Aulora stared at the Prime in complete wonder…and confusion. Unbecoming? Offensive? Those were the absolute last words that came to her mind when she thought of Optimus. As the most loyal, strongest, most dependable and wisest person she had ever met in her lifetime, she believed those words were almost beneath him; that it was horrible to even consider him possible of doing things like that. She wanted to ask more. What had he done? And why? But something deep within her told her that that was another Pandora's box for another day.

"So, do they talk to you…like all the time?" she asked.

"They do. However, it disgusts me that I have learned of a way to "turn a blind eye" so to speak on their comments. Primus knows I deserve them," he answered.

"You're like Proditor," Aulora commented, clamping her hands over her mouth in surprise the words had come out of her mouth. Optimus turned to her, eyebrows raised with interest.

"No offense, or anything. It's just…when I was talking to him, he believed he deserved to die for the things he did to Cybertronians. I told him that when we have the ability to forgive, no one will ever deserve pain," she explained. She watched as his eyes wondered with…guilt. She reveled in the deep guilt she seem to now bear heavily on her chest, realizing her mind was only mimicking the feelings of Optimus. But it was all too familiar. The weight, the heavy, heavy weight of guilt.

"I don't mean to insult the 12 original Primes, but even they have the ability to forgive, even though they're kind of dead," she said, a small smile forming on her lips.

"I do not believe you wish to hear what they have to say about you at this moment," Optimus replied, a small, humorous twinkle sparking in his eyes. Aulora giggled.

"No, I probably don't. Tell them I said hi, by the way," she said, Optimus's heart smiling at the sound of a pure burst of laughter that echoed from her mouth. He had finally guided the lost soul back to its path.

Guided.

"Aulora, in light of recent events, it has come to my attention that you are in dire need of a permanent guardian. And thought I do not believe I am the most dependable of figures for the job, I would like to offer my services as your primary guardian," he said.

She stared up at with large, sparkling eyes, smiled and nodded.

 

* * *

 

 

She watched with interest as her new patient tucked her legs through the chair's arms into a criss-cross applesauce. She was able to distinguish that this gesture meant one of two things; her patient either felt completely at ease and comfortable in this setting, which for the first day of her session would indicate a large improvement already or she was already losing interest. Either way, she would have to delve deep soon to keep her attention, without pushing her away.

"Hi, Aulora."

The girl's eyes stayed wide and trained on the therapist in front of her, never blinking or moving.

"Do you know why you're here today?" the therapist asked, plastering on a smile.

"Because my uncle has deep pockets to take care of his advisors' interests in his less than adequate parenting skills," she answered matter-of-factly, her tone quiet and even. She wasn't trying to sound sarcastic. She just knew the exact reason why.

"Do you want to talk about it?" the therapist (Ms. Collins) asked gently, her face suddenly falling serious.

Aulora didn't answer for a few moments, as she scrunched her eyes in observation as she studied the woman in front of her. She clearly looked to be somewhere in her 20's, and her bright pink, neckline plunging shirt, mahogany shelves jammed tight with head thick textbooks and golden-retriever bobble head on her desk suggested she was either fresh out of college, or Aulora was in the wrong session. Either way, this therapist had clearly already been bought and paid for by her uncle, so there was no use in explaining any problems she truly was experiencing. Not that she would divulge them to a stranger in the first place. She just knew that her uncle had already had his assistant right up a 10 page report on her apparent behavior that his continual business trips clearly left him time to observe.

"Why am I here?" she asked.

"Your uncle is worried about you," Ms. Collins started. The ball was in Aulora's court now.

"Worried about what, exactly?"

"He's worried you still haven't come to terms with your family's passing," Ms. Collins explained, her eyes filling with mechanical sympathy.

"That's it? Seriously!? So he had his assistant call me at 5 o'clock this morning to tell me I had a 4 o'clock appointment with a therapist to talk about the accident?" Aulora asked.

"Is that how you refer to it? The accident?" Ms. Collins asked, her eyes habitually censored into an intrigued faze.

"What am I supposed to call it?" Aulora asked, her eyes perked with confusion.

"Well, it's just some victims label traumatic events with simple terminology in order to create a less personal connection with it," she explained, her thin fingers now intertwining as she rested her elbows on her desk.

"I was in the accident. How can I not have a personal connection with it?" Aulora asked, still trying to comprehend what exactly the woman in front of her was trying to get at.

"So you do understand your involvement in the incident," she stated, quickly scribbling something out on the yellow pad in front of her. She set her pen on top of the pad and turned her eyes back up to her patient.

"Let me ask you this. Do you feel responsible for your family's deaths?" she asked, closely studying the patient before her.

Aulora's mouth dropped. It felt as if she had been slapped brutally across the face, and then another fist came around and punched her right in the gut, as she numbly sat there listening to the empty echoes it created bounce off of her equally empty body. The truth was painful. It hurt like stab through the heart. But the way she had asked the question, the way her voice dipped slightly in the middle, it sounded as if she could fix it. That all of those head-thick textbooks behind her had prepared her for this moment, where she would be able to cure her patient of the burden she carried. But there wasn't a cure. Blame such as that for a family's deaths was etched so perfectly and cleanly into her soul. A needle so precise and cruel had written, in its own language, the responsibility she now bore for the loss of everything she held dear to her. There was no removing it.

It was the tattoo of Guilt, of Fault. It wasn't one of Sadness or Sympathy towards the deceased. Sadness and Sympathy were easy to remedy. They were light, short-term feelings that never stayed forever. Guilt…that was in a whole other category of its own. That was a permanent tattoo, one she had covered up under her shirt, under her skin, under her chest for years. And the overpaid therapist that stood before her had just sliced her French, manicured nails right through her heart and pried it open, leaving it squirming and withering from exposure.

/I wanna thrill you like Michael. /I wanna kiss you like Prince. /Let's get it on like Marvin Gaye. /Like Hathaway. Write a song for you like this/

Aulora almost jumped completely out of her seat at the crystal voice that echoed from her cell phone. She didn't even bother looking at the caller id before answering. To say she was saved by the bell was a large understatement.

"Hello?"

"Aulora, it's Ratchet. We require your assistance. It's an emergency," he quickly stated, his voice urgent.

"What's wrong?"

"I'll have Raf brief you when you arrive. There's no time. Contact me when you are out of public sight and I'll send you a bridge," he stated, before hanging up.

Thank you, Ratchet.

Aulora looked back up at her therapist. "Well, that was one of my friends. I have to go," Aulora explained, already collecting her bag from the floor and heading for the door.

"But our session isn't over yet. You can't run away from your feelings like that," Ms. Collins called back after her.

Aulora was already halfway out the door before she turned around, smile and waved goodbye.

 

* * *

 

 

"Ground bridge shutting down!" Raf called out. He turned to wave hello to Aulora, who was already sprinting up the steps to him.

"Raf, where's Ratchet? What's going on?" she asked, her eyes desperately searching the base for the medic.

"I bridged him out right after he called you. You would not believe what they're doing in the Sahara right now," he said, whipping his swivel chair back around to his laptop. Aulora quickly came to his side, resting her elbows on the back of his chair.

"Ratchet detected another Iacon Relic beacon a little a while ago, and it belongs to this," Raf started, pulling up a large image on the overhead screen. Aulora stared at the small tube.

"It's a pipe?"

"No, it's actually a map," Raf answered.

"I know there's some Dora joke to be made here," Aulora commented, making Raf smile.

"But it's not just any map. From what Ratchet's databases explain, the beacon belongs to a relic known as the Iacon Map of Relics," Raf explained.

"Wait, you mean…."

"This map could be a map to any other Iacon Relic on the planet," Raf answered, rather excitedly.

"We could finally get the edge we need over the Decepticons," Aulora commented.

"Speaking of Decepticons," Raf stated. Raf and Aulora looked up at the screen before them as a group of blinking, red dots appeared on the overhead screen as they quickly began approaching the Autobots' life signatures.

"Not good," Aulora commented.

"Optimus, there's about 10 Decepticon signals headed towards you guys from the East, about a mile out," Raf explained, reaching over the keyboard in front of him to speak into the microphone.

"Thank you for the observation, Rafael. Please continue to inform me of any changes," the Prime answered back, his voice echoing across the empty base.

"Will do, Optimus," the 12 year old replied.

"I don't get it, though. If it's just a map, why bring Ratchet out into the field? Why bring the whole team out there? This could've just been a two man job. Bee could've scouted the place out and Optimus would be his fire power," Aulora asked, leaning against the controls to look at Raf.

"Optimus figured that because the 'Cons let them get away with the Polarity Gauntlet, they would come twice as strong to this relic to make sure we didn't walk away with another one," Raf explained.

The two humans suddenly turned to the screen above them, their eyes wide with fear and worry as their teammates voices sounded across the base.

"Bee, behind you!"

"I got your back, buddy!"

"Arcee, you are with me. We must ensure that Ratchet makes it to the relic!"

"Take that you rusted piece of tin!"

"Starscream! Here to join the party?!"

"Megatron, stand down!"

"Optimus, I've lost a visual on Ratchet. He's surrounded by too many flyers. He's-!"

"Arcee, respond! Arcee, do you copy?!"

"Bulkhead you got these guys!? I'm gonna go help 'Cee!"

Raf stared frantically up at the screen before him.

"There's 2 Decepticon signals making their way to the relic! The 'Bots won't get there in time!" Raf exclaimed.

"What do we do!?" Aulora asked anxiously.

"Arcee and Ratchet are down and they've got Optimus, 'Bee and Bulkhead surrounded! There's no one we can warn!" Raf exclaimed with utter worry.

"What if you drop me off, Raf? Like right where the relic is?" Aulora asked, peering down at the middle-schooler.

"What!?"

"If I go now, I'll grab the relic before the 'Cons ever come close to it and then you can bridge me back!" Aulora exclaimed, slowly putting the pieces together.

"Well-"

Raf's answer was suddenly interrupted by an ear-piercing blast of sound, one that echoed across every comm-link and sent the kids reeling back in pain, covering their ears. The blast was quick, it was only a few seconds. But it was large. It sounded larger than a blaster shot. It sounded more painful than a blaster shot. Still covering their ears, Raf and Aulora stared back up at the screen.

"Their signals, all of them…their all down!" Raf yelled over his still ringing ears.

"What just happened!?" Aulora exclaimed.

Raf turned around in his seat to face her.

"The relic. It just…exploded."

 


	10. Plagued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate of A Shooting Star: Comes Back To Haunt  
> Plagued
> 
> Optimus Prime and his team jump straight into action as a series of ancient relics crash land on Earth, but is it all that safe to uncover the past so readily, when it was buried for a reason. And why does Aulora start to feel like she's being watched?

The disturbed sand hung in the thick air with patience, the ripped metal and combusted rocks finally settling down, their surfaces still tickling with the immense energy of the explosion. A horrible, foreboding silence clung to the air with vengeance. As the dust slowly started to trickle away, the scene finally came into view.

The land had been desecrated.

The scattered ancient buildings and some of their still-standing walls had been blasted to pieces, piles of bricks, rocks and cement thrown haphazardly across the sandy desert. The already setting sun painted ghastly shadows across the disturbed rubble, the sunset coating the marble stones in layers of golden light, an ironic beauty to the pain it was covering beneath its rays. The still unconscious bodies that were hidden beneath the piles of rubble were trapped.

A small, purple femme was being crushed beneath the heavy weight of a collapsed wall, the fallen medic and the yellow Scout in a similar predicament. The green Wrecker was pinned against the ground by a massive pile of construction pipes. The mighty Prime was pinned beneath layers of thick debris, the semi uncovered rod of a constructed wall angled downward, straight through the side of his shoulder. They were nothing short of blessed that the opposing faction would wake to find themselves in a similar position, but this insured nothing. Reinforcements for Megatron and his troops would arrive, whether it would be his scouring armada of Insecticons or his diligent drones. They would rescue their fallen master and the rest of his troops. But the Autobots had no one. There was no armada, or squad, or a single soldier for that matter, left to rescue them.

They were at the complete and utter mercy of whichever Decepticon would uncover their pained bodies beneath the rubble.

Any small ounce of hope that remained for Team Prime rested on the shoulders of the small, timid human that slowly stepped out from the activated ground bridge, surveying the damage before her.

Alright, Aulora. You got this.

With a gentle, swift flicker of wind, the ground bridge closed behind her as she stared out at the ruins below her. The relic had seemed to create a circular crater that rounded around the small sand dune the relic was seated on. The large dip in the Earth extended for a few miles, anything in between completely covered by anything the radius of the explosion was able to get its hands on. There was no Autobot or Decepticon in sight. Her heart tugged with worry, her feet already instinctively carrying her toward the piles of debris to search for her friends, but she knew better. She was only here to collect the relic. She gave one last look at the still silent scene before her before turning back to the center of the dune.

A small hole had formed in its center, cracks dancing from its edges, as if the sand around it had turned to hardened rock. She slowly sank to her knees as she peered into the small hole. There, at the bottom, partially covered by rock was…

Two relics.

Aulora's eyes widened in shock as she beheld the two mystic weapons in front of her.

One was a golden rod, easily as long as her arm. Each end was covered with a sparkling, yellow jewel that twinkled with the setting sun. All across its glimmering surface, Cybertronian letters were etched neatly and evenly in columns. It had to be the map. Aulora squinted her eyes and peered closer to the rod, already inspecting the lettering in an attempt to read it, when her eyes caught the other relic, settled in the rock beside it. The other relic. The one the Autobots' censors hadn't detected. It was an orb, most likely the size of her head, that sparkled with a pristine blue, its surface dancing and shimmering with darker and lighter shades of blue, as if it was reflecting the surface of the ocean.

Both relics were magnificent. Aulora was easily enthralled by their evident beauty.

Suddenly, a flash of light caught her attention and the immediate sense of heat tingling across her ribs directed her attention down to her chest. There she watched with utter confusion and fear as the serum bottle was soon covered in a glowing, pulsing blue light. Her eyes suddenly darted to the relics, as they soon became enveloped in the same blue light, the pulses of illumination falling in beat with each other; the beat of a heart…her heart.

"Well, well. It seems the pet has found something new."

Aulora was finally pulled from her trance on her glowing necklace and relics to stare at the source of the deep voice. Her heart dropped like a cold rock in her stomach as she beheld the tall, beastly form of Megatron. His armor gleamed with radiance with the last rays of the setting sun, his fiery red eyes almost matching the scarlet sunset. She watched as he reached out his claw like fingers, his palm open to her, coming within feet of her face.

"Hand the relics to me and you and your Autobot allies will be able to walk away from this alive. Choose wisely, Aulora."

She almost vomited at the sound of her name on his tongue, her eyes and mouth still wide and gaping at the Lord of Darkness before her, all of the pent up fear that she had contained in her nightmares from the terrifying night at the volcano resurfacing in seconds. She was paralyzed; immobile with fear. She couldn't produce a word even if she wanted to. And so she remained silent and still as she continued to tremble with fear. She watched as one of Megatron's eye brows peaked with intrigue.

"No? You always were the stubborn one, weren't you Aulora. Of course I don't object to adding a few more burns to that fleshy skin of yours," Megatron bellowed, his voice rising with his armed hand, his sentence finishing with the sizzling end of his blaster glaring at Aulora straight in the face.

However, the Decepticon leader failed to keep his watch over the relics, the pulsing blue light slowly growing throughout his conversation, until it now became a blinding, white flash of light. In a click, the relics flew from the ground flew into Aulora's hands. The young teenager watched, mystified, as the Map of Relics vibrated in her hand, as an arc of piercing blue light expanded from the relic, incasing the young, Autobot ally in a dome of crystal blue energy.

"NO!" Megatron roared. And with all the power he had, he released the pent up energy in his blaster onto the glowing dome that had formed around Aulora. Sickly purple energy collided with dazzling blues, and explosion of color stretching out across the landscape, rainbows of colors dancing through the air.

"Aulora, the evacuation process is complete. I was able to wake up Bumblebee and we were able to get everyone through. I repeat, the Autobots have made it back to base." Aulora listed as Raf's voice traveled from her ear piece into her ear.

"You insignificant, little pest. Release the relics at once, and I will ensure your death is swift!" Megatron growled, his voice somewhat muffled by the energy dome.

"Aulora, I'm getting some serious energy readings from your last coordinates! Can I bridge you in?"

"Negative, Raf. I'm ok. Just give me a few seconds," she replied.

She took another look at the dome around her. If the map itself could generate a defensive dome of energy…perhaps it could redirect it into the offensive mode. She tightly gripped the arm length tube in her fingers. Here goes nothing. She collected her arms above her shoulder, as if ready to strike with a bat, and swung it hard against the air in front of her. The crystal on the map's face directed at Megatron suddenly exploded with light, the Lord of Darkness's eyes ignited with fear as the blast of energy catapulted his body directly into the pile of debris, his limp body clanging against hard rock.

The disturbed dust finally settled, the air regaining its composure, as the sparkling dome around Aulora slowly began to dissolve, her necklace and the relics finally returning to their normal color, a wide smile of thrill and exhilaration spreading across her face, as she eyed the relics in her hand eagerly.

"Hey, Raf. I could really use that ground bridge right about now."

 

* * *

 

 

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!?" Aulora and Raf turned to each other with guilty expressions as they turned back to look at the raging senior field medic.

"NOT ONLY DID YOU CONFRONT A BATTLE ZONE, WHEN I SPECIFICALLY ORDERED YOU TO STAY HERE, BUT IT ALSO BEHOOVED YOU TO MAKE CONTACT WITH TWO VOLATILE RELICS, ONE HAVEN NOT SECONDS BEFORE DEMOLISHED ANY STANDING OBJECT WITHIN A 5 MILE RADUIS!" Ratchet exclaimed, his eyes blazing with fiery temper.

"Did you hear him!? Volatile?! I oughta light 'em up like the fires of Kaon!"

Every pair of eyes, including Arcee, Bumblebee and Bulkhead's, who had already been checked by Ratchet, widened and twisted with utter confusion. Each set of eyes turned to each other, waiting for someone to show recognition at who spoke. But they all shook their heads, one common thought flowing through their minds. They had never heard that voice before.

Raf and Ratchet slowly followed Aulora's perplexed eyes to the floor behind Arcee, the other three Autobots finally turning behind them to see what they were looking at. They watched in wonder as a green, digital image began to form and levitate about a few inches about their respective relics.

"BTW's, you were the one that went all Supernova on the place. Problems aside, Prevus would you for once, just please keep your voice down! I swear, you'd think you're issuing a battle cry!"

The Autobots watched, stunned, as the images grew to about 1 and half feet tall, the images finally focusing to reveal clear cut edges and curves, dips and molds. Every jaw dropped at the sight before them. They were Cybertronians. Cybertronian holograms, that is.

"We are in the middle of a war, Nova! You got to get used to the fact that I'm going to yell battle cries as often as you complain."

"As often as I complain!? Last I remember, you saw the Decepticons coming toward you and you completely lost it. For all we know, you could've seriously hurt…."

The image's voice stopped dead in its tracks, as it turned in the direction of its outstretched arm, discovering a group of wide-eyed Cybertronians and humans staring at the two, realizing they were able to see her. The other image slowly turned his head to face the group too, his face never changing.

"See, I didn't hurt any of them," the serious image responded. The first image turned to the other with rage painted clearly across her face.

"Are you kidding me!? You made me accidently activate! What happened to breaking it to them slowly!?" she exclaimed.

"Well now we accomplished it in half the time. You're welcome," the other evenly responded.

"You're welcome!? I can't believe…oh never mind. We probably shouldn't keep them hanging like this," she sighed. And simultaneously, both images turned to the face the still very confused group before them, the femme's face lighting up with a large smile, the other still carrying a deadpan expression.

"Hi," the femme greeted, waving her small hand to Team Prime. Bumblebee, Raf and Miko responded with a small wave, the others still gaping in shock.

"I apologize for the argument you had to be an audience to. My colleague, here, can be a little difficult," she responded calmly.

"Difficult!? You were the one that was all "Let's wait here, quietly, for the bio-signature" as two Decepticons were charging towards us, ready to make a grab at the relics!" the other exclaimed, turning to her.

"Wait. You were searching for a bio-signature?" Ratchet interjected. The two, digital Cybertronians were pulled from their argument to look at the field medic.

"Well, there's a lot more to it than that," the mech Cybertronian responded coolly.

"Finally! Introductions!" the femme exclaimed excitedly. She cleared her throat and turned to the still confused group before her.

"Hi. My name is Nova and this here is my colleague, Prevus," the mech giving a small nod to the group.

"We are known as Zeta Guardians," she added.

"Guardians of what?" Arcee asked.

"We guard the Zeta Relics. All Iacon Relics can be categorized into smaller sub-groups, one of them being the Zeta Relics. The Zeta Relics are actually a group of relics that were created my several Cybertronians during the beginning of Cybertron's Golden Age. We were each approached by Alpha Trion to construct a type of mechanism that would reflect our career and specialties to be placed in a time capsule for later generations to study and observe," Nova explained.

"We? Wait, you mean…"

"Part of the contract was that our beings would be digitally installed into the relics we created, for the purpose of a future mission," Nova continued.

A look of completely disgust covered Ratchet's face. "You reprogrammed your sparks as if they were some type of…file!? I highly doubt Alpha Trion would partake in such a barbaric procedure," Ratchet scoffed.

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Prevus scoffed, rolling his optics.

"What Prevus means is that our sparks weren't simply jammed into a relic. We relied upon one of Solus Prime's greatest creations; the R-cog," she replied.

"The R-Cog?" Bulkhead asked, slowly trying to keep up with the conversation.

"Solus Prime created a device that could…upgrade the T-Cog, if you will. The new program would allow the relic creators, such as Prevus and I, to resubmit our mind and spark to another form. It was much like the process of transformation, but a little more advanced. This way, when we were ready, we could leave our physical, Cybertronian form and reside within our relics," Nova explained.

"What do you mean "a future mission?" Raf asked, readjusting his glasses further atop his nose.

"Alpha Trion was made known to a future conflict that would entangle an alien race into the Cybertronian race, humans being the alien race. We weren't briefed on many of the details, due mainly to the fact that Alpha Trion never could read the future all to clearly, but from what we were told, there would be a human in particular we would have to find when we would eventually land on this planet," Nova said, her eyes turning to fall on Aulora. The young human desperately searched the faces of her other teammates, hoping Nova was looking at someone else.

"Wait, me!?" Aulora asked, pointing to herself.

"Alpha Trion had reason to believe that you would be in need of not only our intelligence but also the help of the relics themselves. We were instructed to locate the heat signature that would be radiating from your necklace," Nova explained, nodding to the Autobot symbol around her neck.

"But, Cliffjumper made this for me to…" Aulora stopped mid-sentence, pieces of the puzzle falling into place. She turned to look back at the expecting faces of her team and the two newcomers.

"Wait, you're telling me that this was some big plan? That Alpha Trion told Cliffjumper to make me a necklace that would not only protect an important serum, but would emit a heat signature that you guys could track?" Aulora asked, dumfounded, as she remembered back to the glowing competition her necklace was having between the two other relics.

"Bingo," Nova answered, winking at the young human.

"But what's so special about me, though? Why me?" Aulora asked, still horribly confused over everything that was happening.

"We don't know. All we know is that Alpha Trion was dead-set on you and making sure everything was set, in the past, to make sure it make it to you in the future," Nova replied, shrugging her shoulders.

"So what are you guys like, her guardians now?" Jack asked.

"To some extent, sure. You are the only one now, Aulora, who can activate us and call on us when you need help. As the Zeta Guardian of Journeys, I control the Map of the Iacon Relics, and the map's container, as you witnessed before, contains the ability to create a protection dome and an energy blast of its own. Prevus is the Zeta Guardian of Curiosity, and just used up his one explosion, so he can't really do much," Nova explained with a small, victorious grin on her face. Prevus threw her a deadly glare.

"I like to believe that my knowledge and intelligence were of greater importance than brute force," he explained highly.

"What do you mean by the Zeta Guardians of "curiosity" and "journeys?" Ratchet asked.

"Alpha Trion was concerned that if Cliffjumper was never able to find Aulora, there should still be a way for us to find her. And so, we programmed our relics with a "touch-test" as I called it. Anyone who came into physical contact with the Zeta Relics were "interviewed" so to speak, by the Zeta Guardians inside. We were instructed with Aulora's profile, and we'd know how to find her that way," Nova continued.

"A quite inefficient way of gaining results, in my opinion," Prevus scoffed.

"Prevus was instructed with the task of testing Aulora's levels of curiosity, and I, her progress on her journey of self-discovery," Nova explained, completely ignoring Prevus's last comment.

The team turned, surprised, to hear a low grumble coming from Aulora.

"You mean I was played!? You're telling me Cliffjumper pretended to be hurt just so my aunt would bring him home to me!? Did he even like me!? Or was he just pretending the whole time, making sure he completed his mission!?" she exclaimed, small puddles of tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Aulora, you know that's not…" But Arcee was cutoff.

"Yeah!? How do I know you're not all in on it!?" she exclaimed, looking at Team Prime before her, her eyes swimming with hurt and confusion. She felt utterly betrayed.

"Hey, Aulora, it's ok," Jack reassured, laying a hand on her shoulder. Aulora roughly shook it off and stomped down the stairs.

"I just want to be alone right now."

 

* * *

 

 

The Ater Tigris's ears lazily shifted from side to side, as the sound of small, steady foot-fall echoed throughout the empty hallways.

Proditor assumed it was simply the medic coming to throw another cube of Energon through the bars of his prison cell door, but a glance at his internal clock informed him it was 2200. It was the middle of the night. He still had another 8 hours before the medic would return with his morning rations.

He doubted it was any other members of the team. Though, it was possible the Prime would visit him. But the Prime hadn't seen him at all. Though Proditor did not know many of the ways of the Autobots, he assumed that it was respectful and simply common sense for the leader to not only check-up on but most likely interrogate a prisoner within his base. He found himself to almost hope that the Prime appeared, knowing past memories with the Prime leader would help Proditor out of his solitary confinement.

But he let his heavy armor relax with his sigh. He belonged in a cell. Sure, he might've helped a lot of Autobots out towards the end of the war, and sure he might've saved Optimus's life once…but he openly attacked and held one of their allies hostage. And if there was one thing the Autobots were protective over, it was their allies. Beside the point, he threatened an innocent human, who knew nothing of him and his past actions. Was he that foolishly afraid of the Autobots wrath when they found him that he kept one of their friends as insurance? The little native life form was right; what was he thinking?

He opened his bright, yellow eyes and listened intently as the footsteps grew closer. And as they grew closer, he noticed something else. They were lighter than an Autobot's.

A whole, raging storm of emotions whirl-pooled around in his stomach as he watched Aulora's small body peeked out form the edge of his cell door and plopped down right in the center of it, leaning her back against it.

He listened carefully as she let out a small sigh. What was she going to do? What if they had sent her to interrogate him, or even worse? He immediately began to regret not researching the anatomy of the native life forms. Sure they were small. But that meant nothing. Fire-breathing abilities, retractable claws, venomous fangs; these were all possible features.

"Hi, Proditor," she replied meekly, as if she had almost forgotten he was behind her.

He felt like he was going to vomit. He had almost hurt this completely innocent pup before him. He had displayed so much rage to her, and throughout the whole experience, even the aftermath, she had been nothing but kind to him.

She slowly turned her body around to face him, her small eyes falling onto his bright ones.

"Can I come in?" she asked quietly.

He stared at her skeptically. What was she trying to do? If she wanted to hurt him or interrogate him, she wouldn't have asked him for his permission. Unless she was working at it from another angle. What if she was trying to psych him out? She seemed rather intelligent for her age.

Aulora took the silent response as a "yes" and slipped between the gap between the bars, her body just small enough to make it through.

"Aren't you afraid I'm going to hurt you?" he asked, watching warily as she took a seat against the wall opposite him, her legs crossing together and her head hanging low.

A small smile slipped across her face.

"I know you're not going to hurt me, Proditor," she replied quietly.

Did she honestly have that much confidence in him? He couldn't be trusted. He was never trustworthy. He watched as she slowly lifted her eyes up to his.

"Proditor, have you ever been betrayed?" she asked quietly, small tears returning to her eyes.

It was the beast's turn to smile.

"As I heard one of the other humans use the term earlier, it is the "story of my life,"' he replied.

She simply nodded in response. She seemed less energetic, less optimistic, than he had last encountered her.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, changing the subject. Proditor instinctively flexed his tail over the still sore, newly-welded metal.

"Better, thank you. Your medic is quite the expert," he replied.

Aulora's face seemed to fall at the sound of the Autobot's name.

"I am no expert on many of the Autobot's Codes of Conduct, but I am sure that betrayal is not taken lightly," he replied.

Aulora turned to look at him skeptically, her eyes squinting with intrigue.

"How did you know I was talking about them?" she asked. She watched as the Ater Tigris lazily shrugged from his lying position on the ground, his tail twitching with animation.

"Call it a sixth sense," he responded.

"Aulora, Team Prime is a good group of 'Bots, and if there was anything I learned on Cybertron, it was that loyalty among the Autobots was something not to be trifled with," Proditor explained.

Aulora shook her head. "I was just a mission in their eyes. Nothing more. I thought I had somebody who would actually care about me. I was such a fool," she said.

"Did you see them last night!? When the medic and the two other bots came through the ground bridge, they were so scared of what might've happened to you. Or this morning, when you came to check up on me in the medical bay. The Prime didn't think twice when he picked you up and placed you out of harm's reach. If you were just a mission to be completed, why would they continue to worry about you…and care about you?" he asked gently.

Aulora gave a small chuckle. "Tushay," she responded, another smile forming on her lips. Her face suddenly fell serious, as she slowly got up from her seat and sat down right in front of the Ater Tigris, his head coming up about a few feet above hers. He almost flinched back. Did the human not realize he was dangerous? Was she not scared of him? He slowly scooted back a few feet from her, keeping a decent distance between the two. Her eyes scrunched with bewilderment.

"What's wrong?" she asked, gently.

"I don't want to hurt you," he replied, warily.

"Proditor, the only person, here, who fears you, is you," she replied, scooting forward a few inches.

"Please stay away from me, Aulora. I am capable of things you couldn't ever possibly comprehend," he explained urgently, backing up still further from the pup in front of him.

"But you did those things under Shockwave's control. That wasn't you fighting," she responded, watching him carefully.

"That's no excuse," he replied, shortly.

"Proditor, you have to stop beating yourself up. Forgiveness starts with you," she replied.

"I don't deserve it," he responded almost mechanically, Aulora watching as his face was quickly veiled with a cold, hardened shield, his eyes even losing a little life as he was forced to reminisce about his past.

"Proditor, what did I tell you before!? Everyone deserves it," Aulora pleaded.

Why was she trying so hard to convince? Why was she so determined with him? Aside from that, why did she even care? Proditor could not wrap his head around the fact that someone was so determined and ready to…help him; to convince him that he was wrong. Someone who cared enough to stay with him and show him where he needed guidance. He couldn't understand why. And of all people, a human.

Aulora heaved a large sigh and turned back up to the creature.

"I forgive you," she said, gently.

He turned to her in bewilderment.

"If it's going to start, let it be with me. I forgive you for scaring the scrap out of me, for scratching up my patio stone and for staining it blue," she replied, looking up at him.

She held out her hand to him, palm upward, facing the ceiling.

Proditor stretched his nose out to inspect the hand she offered. Forgiveness. I forgive you. Those words seemed sweeter than the wind across his ears. Though he knew it only relieved him of a small portion of the troubles he had committed, he couldn't hide the feeling of elation thumping contently within his spark. Did the small human even realize what she had just done? She had given him a small piece of his freedom back.

Freedom.

Freedom from the old, rusty chains of regret that held him down, that made every footstep heavier than the last. Now, one of the rings on the chains had broken. It had shattered and fell to the ground with a satisfying clank.

He extended his nose out to the girl, letting out a small purr as her gentle hand caressed the side of his face.

Freedom.

 

* * *

 

 

Aulora shoved her hands further into her pockets as she continued to shuffle further down the corridor, keeping her eyes hung low to the ground.

She was supposed to feel happy right now.

She had helped the abandoned soul of a war criminal find a small piece of mind. More importantly, she had made a new friend. That alone should cause for the occasion of actually lifting her feet of the ground and planting them firmly, one after the other. They continued to scuff their way along the metal floor.

She should be excited right now.

Optimus Prime, the highlight of her childhood stories, the hero of all her fairytales, the knight in shining armor, was now her guardian. The leader of the Autobots was putting aside his overloaded, busy, hectic schedule to make room for little ole' her.

She should be astounded right now.

Alpha Trion, one of the greatest and wisest Primes, had visions of her back before she was even born. He had created relics and Zeta Guardians just for her to use at that very moment.

She should be…something.

But she felt nothing.

She felt like nothing.

She felt guilty for thinking the thoughts she was, but they couldn't help but wander aimlessly around her mind.

Cliffjumper had known about her before he even met her. She was his mission. Cliffjumper hadn't made the serum necklace especially for her. Alpha Trion had instructed him to give it to her to make sure she could be tracked later on. So the relics would know where to find her. That they would somehow make it to her. Did Cliffjumper even like her the whole time he was cooped up in Aunt Lorelei's garage? Did he even like Aunt Lorelei? And what about bringing them back, after he was recovered, to meet the rest of Team Prime? Was that just a ploy too? A safety measure Alpha Trion instructed Cliffjumper to take? For so long she had thought it was fate. She had naïvely believed it was destiny for her aunt and Cliffjumper to meet like they did, and then for Aunt Lorelei to introduce her to him; to her new, first best friend. She had thought it was real, the friendship she shared with Cliffjumper, and the rest of Team Prime; that they had truly cared for her. She wanted to believe Proditor, that they truly did. But the doubts continued to cloud her judgment, and continued to tug at the back of her mind.

She truly wanted to believe that her involvement in all of this was just a coincidence. She wanted to believe that Team Prime, and Cliffjumper, would've trusted her and looked after her no matter what or who she was. She wanted to believe that all the jokes, all the stories, and all of the advice she listened to Cliffjumper tell all those months after school in that small garage were because he truly liked her, not because he needed to make sure he got the job done.

Her heavy eyes lifted to the sound of noise, as she slowly began to approach the main section of the hangar. She could clearly make out Arcee and Bulkhead's frantic voices, Bumblebee's urgent beeps mixing together. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but they were yelling…screaming almost.

Aulora quickly hastened her step until she rounded the corner, the entrance of the hallway leading directly to the medical bays.

She felt her insides roll like dead, raw meat onto the cold, hard ground beneath, as her wide eyes beheld the medic angled over her leader…her guardian's body as he pounded two large defibrillator extensions onto Optimus's chest, blue sparks igniting along their surfaces.

Her ears echoed with the paralyzing ringing of Optimus's spark monitor, a straight line dancing across the screen.


	11. Certifiable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate of A Shooting Star: Tilted Axis  
> Certifiable
> 
> Team Prime's limits are pushed as they are met with the Decepticon's greatest force yet in the race for the remaining Iacon Relics, while Optimus Prime struggles with an unknown, yet fatal illness. Will Team Prime be able to keep the world safe while training a handful of new recruits? And will Aulora be able to find out who, exactly, is invading her mind?

"Optimus, respond!" Ratchet exclaimed, pure fear swimming in his eyes. He quickly turned back to the monitor, watching anxiously for any small movement across the screen.

"Ratchet, do something!" Arcee exclaimed, frantically.

Ratchet turned back to Optimus and connected the pulsing defibrillator extensions with Optimus's chest once more. The blue electricity danced once more, but the Prime stayed motionless.

"How did this happen!? He was fine up until now!" Bulkhead demanded, shaking at the sight of Optimus's closed eyes and slightly agape mouth.

"Optimus!" Ratchet yelled once more, pounding the extensions with even more force onto his leader's chest. The team turned back to his spark monitor, watching as the ominous horizontal line continued its path across the screen. Suddenly, everyone simultaneously jumped at the sound of a small beep, watching with relief as a small spike peaked from its flat travel. A large sigh was released, everyone's tense bodies noticeably relaxing as the weight of worry slipped off their shoulders like a coat.

Ratchet quickly went to work attaching numerous patches and tubes to Optimus's frame, as the rest of the team turned to each other with expecting eyes, one question prominent in all of their minds.

_What in the world just happened?_

Miko was the first to break the hesitant silence.

"Did I miss something!? I thought Boss bot just got poked in the shoulder!" she shouted out with her hands dramatically in the air, mainly to Ratchet, who was still bustling around Optimus's still frame.

"I thought he was just…resting," Jack said, running a trembling hand nervously through his hair. Everyone was clearly shaken, the menacing sound of the young Prime's monotonous-toned spark monitor still haunting their minds. It was a thought none of them wanted to reflect on for another moment.

"You were the one that called us over here, Cee. What happened?" Bumblebee asked, turning to the small femme beside him.

She twitched her shoulder struts upward in a shrug, keeping her trembling gaze on her leader.

"I…I don't know. I came over to check up on him, and at first, his spark rate was fine…steady…so were his vitals. Then, the next second, he completely flat-lined," she replied meekly, her voice barely audible. Bumblebee placed a comforting hand over her shoulder.

"How could he have gone from sleeping to…dying," Raf asked, still trying to grasp what had just happened before him.

"There was no excessive blood loss, no major Energon veins were punctured…so there's something I missed," Ratchet replied, finally looking up from his old friend to address his still anxious team members.

"It's a virus."

The team turned, suddenly, behind them to find a small, trembling Aulora, her eyes spilling over with tears. She looked up at her team, her arms wrapped around herself, hugging her body steady.

"Aulora…" Arcee said, a mix of regret in her voice as she watched her slowly approach. She shouldn't have seen that.

"What do you mean?" Ratchet asked.

"His m-mind is still w-weak, b-b-but I can f-feel s-something at-tacking his b-body," she replied, her voice shaking with emotion, as she slowly approached the group, watching her guardian.

"Whoa," Miko replied with interest.

"You can feel the things he feels!?" Jack asked, astounded.

"Did Prima even know he could do that?" Bulkhead asked.

Ratchet held his hand out, silencing the questioning group, as he turned back to Aulora.

"What do you think is wrong with Optimus, Aulora?" he asked, patiently.

"I don't kn-now," she replied, drying her eyes with a still trembling fist. "I don't think our connection's s-s-strong enough right now, but I can sense his thoughts," she stammered, looking up to the medic. He calmly nodded his head for her to continue.

"He thinks he's suffering from some type of illness that's attacking his immune system. His internal systems are telling him that his population of antibodies is dropping rapidly. They're also telling him that an infection has started where he was stabbed, and that he doesn't have a strong enough immune system to fight it off," she slowly explained, occasionally closing her eyes to hone in deeper on Optimus's very weak and occupied mind.

"How could I have missed that!?" Ratchet exclaimed, more to himself than anyone else, as he turned back to Optimus's vital monitors and began sifting through the data.

Arcee turned back to the small human.

"So he almost just died because his body couldn't fight off a simple, little virus?" Arcee asked.

Aulora nodded.

"So then…that's not a real big deal…right?" Bumblebee asked out loud. Raf translated for the others.

"Bee's right. If it's just a virus, we can just cure Optimus," Jack noted.

"No. If something is directly attacking Optimus's immune system, we're dealing with a very potent and advanced virus, something I've never seen before in my life, nor have the means of treating," Ratchet explained.

"Wait, what!?" Jack and Arcee exclaimed together.

"Dude, you're the Doc! You gotta have some type of drug for the Big O!" Miko exclaimed.

"You've cured Optimus of the Cybonic Plague. This should be a synch," Bulkhead reasoned.

"Yes, because I recognized his symptoms and vital reports, thus knowing how to cure him! I have never seen a contagion attack so rapidly, aggressively or precisely in all my vorns. My equipment is still not able to read or even pin point where the virus is currently in his body! This disease is like a ghost!" Ratchet explained, his voice laced with concern and despair.

"So then…what do we do?" Jack asked, turning back to his unconscious leader.

Aulora looked expectantly up at the field medic, waiting for a response. But she could already see it in his perplexed face and twitching glare.

He was as clueless as she was.

 

* * *

 

 

She watched as his chest slowly rose, hitched, and then fell. Rose, hitch, fall.

Rose, hitch, fall.

She never felt so empty minded. It was as if her body was just sitting there, limp and dead, not possessed by any soul or brain. She felt so numb, nothing could touch her. Though she had been touched. Numerous times, in fact.

Miko had given a few gentle pads on her back and had said something along the lines of Optimus being indestructible.

Jack had placed his hand on her shoulder and told her to call him if his condition changed.

Raf had given her his small pack of tissues from his backpack and had mentioned something about a bright side.

Arcee had placed her hand over her back and had mentioned something about Optimus's strength.

Bumblebee gave her a small, encouraging bump on the arm, reminding Aulora he was there if she needed him.

Bulkhead said Optimus wouldn't leave them.

They were all so convinced. They were so hell-bent on the idea that Optimus was almost…immortal. With everything their leader, her leader, had encountered, he could cheat death again. A prominent, strong, wise and powerful leader, such as himself, couldn't leave them. It almost seemed impossible. Optimus just wasn't meant to die.

Oh how foolish they were. How naive they were to believe life could ever be so stable, so predictable. Life did what it pleased. It had a mind and a will of its own. And it was never…ever told no. Life was spoiled. It did whatever pleased it. And as if to prove to those so unwise to have any unbelief in its power, it took lives. If it saw anyone get too comfortable, too used to easy tradition, it screwed their world right up. If there was anyone who knew that, it was her.

And it seemed that Life had her on speed-dial, with hidden cameras watching her every move.

Because every time she started to appreciate something, started to fall in love with the beauties of her existence, Life reminded her it was a two-faced player. She was reminded, almost immediately, that happy endings only existed in fairytales.

How could she let this happen to her again? How could she have been so foolish!? She had lost everything before. She had lost her whole world, her whole soul. And coming back to Team Prime, finding out Cliffjumper had passed away too…it solidified her theory that Life just had it out for her the day she was born. And there she went, falling in love with a friendship she thought she would never find again. She relished in the feeling of finally belonging once again. She adored the thought of coming home from a hard, long day, to someone who was looking forward to seeing her. And Life, once again, couldn't let that happen. Aulora McAllister was doomed to be alone. Every heart she touched turned to dust.

She hugged her knees up to her chest, her huddled form on the small, metal chair shaking as she sobbed into her kneecaps.

_**There is no need to lose hope, Aulora.**_   ** _Life is not as predictable as it appears to be._**

The small human quickly whipped her head up and peered around the empty base, save for the clinking sounds coming from Ratchet's supply room at the end of the eastern hall.

Arcee?

**_No, I am not Arcee._**   _ **There is no need to look for me, Aulora.**_   _ **You will not find me.**_

It was a feminine voice, that she knew for sure. It was a Cybertronian too. The silky way her words slid out from her mouth, she could almost hear the silvery echo of her words playfully slide across her aluminum trachea. But her voice was significantly higher than Arcee's. Her words were annunciated more, as well, where Arcee's seem to lazily string along together.

_**You have an impeccable**_   _ **sense of observation, Aulora.**_   _ **Not many are able to decipher**_   _ **the very minute and subtle differences**_   _ **between the Northern and Southern Iaconian accent.**_

Wait…what?

Now she knew she was going crazy. Somehow she was hearing somebody responding to her thoughts.

_**You are not going crazy, Aulora.**_   _ **Far from it, actually.**_   _ **It appears the last grade on a**_   _ **mathematical exam opposes that theory.**_

Aulora's mouth nearly dropped to the ground in complete astonishment…and understanding.

This person was speaking to her within her mind.

_**That would be correct. I did not mean to frighten you, Aulora,**_   _ **I only wished to relay a message,**_   _ **seeing as Optimus is running very short on time**_  she responded.

"How is this possible?" Aulora asked aloud, before correcting herself and asking the voice within her mind.

_**Though I truly wish to answer your question, Aulora, it would take me orns to explain. Optimus needs immediate help**_   she urged.

_**Wait, you know how to help Optimus?**_ Aulora asked.

How was she so ready to believe her?

However, turning back to Optimus's horrifically weakened state clarified the reason; she was desperate. Thought the rest of the team seemed confident the tides of fate were on Optimus's side, Aulora lacked their confidence, simply from experience. Truthfully, she was desperate enough to believe anybody at this point, even if it was some crazy, unknown Cybertronian in her head.

_**No, Aulora, I can assure, you I am no insane. But we don't have time to discuss this. Optimus is suffering from an infection known as NBE1.** _

_**NBE1? Is that some kind of serial number?**_ Aulora asked.

_**To some extent, yes. A**_ ** _Decepticon scientist, designation Shockwave, engineered a large portion of biological warfare diseases and illnesses Megatron kept secret until the situation became dire enough to call for global extermination_** she explained.

_**Global extermination? You mean-** _

_**Megatron was willing to sacrifice the life of every living being on Cybertron if it was to ensure his well being**_ the stranger continued.

_**That's horrible**_  Aulora commented.

_**Indeed. Megatron employed Shockwave with the task of creating a single cell organism that could quickly multiply, infest and kill every spark across the planet in a mere few cycles. Shockwave spent a long time in his laboratory, developing numerous contagions that never fit Megatron's needs. However, he did eventually create the ultimate Cybertronian killer, NBE1. But his creation came to late in the war to bother deploying for Megatron's taste. There were no more resources left on the planet he craved.** _

_**But if Megatron never infected Cybertron with it, how is it that Optimus has the virus?**_  Aulora questioned.

She could hear the stranger in her head take a rather tense sigh. 

_**Shockwave had hundreds of underground laboratories stationed across Cybertorn, and the Autobots were fortunate enough to gain coordinates to a large handful of them, one of them stationed just below Kaon's gladiatorial ring, where the NBE1 sample was held. The Autobots seized the sample and locked it away in the Vaults of Iacon. Later in the war, the Vaults were attacked by a fleet of**_ ** _Decepticon bombers, including Megatron himself, and in a desperate rush to save the relics and data, Alpha Trion began activating the launch pods, sending many of Cybertron's most precious artifacts and data filed off world. Starscream , however was able to get his hands on one of the pods just as it was leaving Cybertron's atmosphere and spilled the stolen vile of NBE1 into its chambers_**  she explained further.

_**Let me guess. That pod had held two Zeta Relics**_  Aulora said.

_**Yes, it did. Relics 067 and 089 were exposed to the toxic virus, though the pods** _ **_extended period of time in space greatly decreased NBE1's potency and deadliness._ **

_**If it was not strong anymore, how did Optimus become infected with it?**_  Aulora asked.

_**Well, if your memories serve correctly, Optimus sustained an open wound during the explosion of Relic 067. The NBE1 virus has reduced to the strength of a simple helm-ache, but Optimus's open wound allowed the virus complete access to his main Energon, lines, and thus  direct access to his spark, where the virus is no doubt wreaking havoc**_  she described.

_**So that explains why none of the other 'Bots were infected. They probably didn't even worry about a helm-ache**_  Aulora hypothesized.

_**That is correct.** _

_**So how do you stop the NBE1 virus?**_  Aulora asked.

_**Aulora, it is a disease. Do you not remember what your serum is capable of?**_  she informed.

Aulora turned down to her chest to look at the small, Autobot symbol that was peeping through her shirt. How could she have forgotten about it? But would it do the trick?

_**Are you sure it will help Optimus? I thought it only removed poison from Dark Energon sample**_  Aulora asked.

_**Oh the serum can do much more than that, Aulora. But that is another story for another time**_  the voice supplied.

Suddenly, a sharp pain scratched like cat claws along Aulora's head, like nails running down a chalk board. 

_**I deeply apologize, Aulora, but I must...be going. My...physical...form...is...**_  the voice replied, fading out into a static wave of scratches.

_**Uh, hello? Are you still there?** _

No answer.

Great.

Was she supposed to listen to her?

She mentally smacked myself.

Of course she shouldn't listen to her!

She just had a telepathic conversation with a person she's supposedly not able to see.

She's officially lost it. Plain and simple.

Of course, she thought the same thing when she first discovered Optimus could weasel into her head, but this…this was different. Optimus was the only one with a Matrix that could use the Telonian connection. And he could only "converse" with one other person.

Which was her.

Which means, logically, this was happening for one of 3 reasons.

A, there is another Matrix floating around out there…somewhere, and this particular Cybertronian stumbled upon it.

B, This has nothing to do with the Telonian connection and she's just some modern-day Charles Xavier who can talk with aliens.

Or C, she has officially lost.

And being she of so little faith, she agreed with the last option. Not that she like being labeled as crazy…but in this circumstance, it made the most sense.

She had gotten little to no sleep over the past week, her mind was still in a frenzy from the encounter with Proditor and now…now Optimus was dying. If anything, these were all valid excuses to let her go insane.

But what if, on top of going insane, she could still hear another voice. There were details about her conversation that argued against the idea that she was simply talking to herself. NBE1, Shockwave's secret laboratory under Kaon…these were things her mind couldn't have spontaneously created, even on a good day.

She turned back to watch Optimus as he continued to wallow in his dream of unconsciousness. She never got to tell him everything. She knew they were both dancing around each other. They both, now, held secrets to each other's minds that they didn't want to other knowing they had them. They kept avoiding the subject, trying to keep a false sense of comfort and stability around them. And yet here he was, a miracle he was still breathing.

She needed to find Ratchet.

She had a theory to test.

 

* * *

 

 

She took one last look down into her backpack and grumbled out loud to herself.

She forgot her English textbook.

She tiredly rubbed at her stinging eyes and turned back down the hallway, squeezing her way past the oncoming waves of kids. Her head felt fuzzy and light-headed, as her dizzy thoughts continued to float like feathers around in her head. The corners of her eyes sparkled with bright, white edges.

For lack of a better word, she felt like scrap.

With absolute and close precision, Ratchet was able to use a small sample from Aulora's serum bottle and inject into one of Optimus's largest spark arteries.

And that's when everything went wrong.

At first, nothing happened. His vitals didn't change or fluctuate. His spark rate didn't increase or decrease. His core temperature was still rising.

And then everything crashed.

His vitals plummeted. His spark rate dropped lower than it was already. His core temperature rose steeply to dangerous heights. His antibody count almost completely wiped out of existence.

Optimus had fallen into a coma.

And it was all her fault.

How could she have been so stupid as to listen to a little voice in her head? Was she certifiably insane!? She had put Optimus's life on the line all on the hunch that the femme in her head was real, and her lack of sleep and dizzy head were valid examples of proof, she thought to herself.

Ratchet had said that the comatose state could easily be a side effect that would remedy itself in time, but she knew better. She knew the medic was simply trying to sugar coat the truth. Optimus may never wake up from that coma, and it was all because she was stupid enough to listen to a genie that was going to help her out.

What would the other Autobots think of her? She had put their leader in a coma, and she didn't exactly have the kind of seniority in the group to pull that kind of stunt. She wouldn't blame them if they never wanted her coming back to base.

She had been so immersed in her thoughts that she almost didn't realize that her instincts had already carried her numb body all the way into her English classroom, right up to her idle textbook on her backseat desk, right past her teacher, sitting quietly in her desk, who was now watching her very curiously.

"Is everything alright, Aulora?" Mrs. Thomas asked, watching as her student completely jumped in her skin as she turned her surprised face around to face her.

Mrs. Thomas gave a small chuckle. "I'm sorry, Aulora. I didn't mean to startle you," she said, grinning from ear to ear.

She watched as Aulora quickly shook her still agape mouth back into place and gave her teacher a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, Mrs. Thomas. I didn't see you there. I must've been deep in thought," she said, slowly grabbing her textbook and already making her way towards the door.

"It's alright. Have you started working on your essay yet?" Mrs. Thomas asked, putting down her pen to turn her full attention to her student.

Aulora nodded her head. "Well, started being the operative word," she replied meekly, making Mrs. Thomas smile again. She was surprised to find Aulora's demeanor just as meek, humble and shy as it was with a class of 24 kids around her. She was, indeed, a very shy girl, watching as her student was already inching her way out the door, away from anymore interaction.

"Aulora, would you like to join me for lunch?" she asked gently, gesturing to the empty seat beside her desk. She grinned again as her student threw her a polite but confused expression.

"Jasper High likes to have follow-ups with their new students and they want me to conduct it. It would actually save me from making an after-school appointment with you," she replied, surprised at how beautifully the lie rolled right off her tongue.

Aulora stole a hesitated glance down at the empty chair beside Mrs. Thomas. It was easily inscribed across her face that she did not want to, but she knew she was trapped, and accepted her defeat as she hesitantly eased herself into the large, black swivel chair.

"There's no need to be worried, Aulora. I don't bite," she replied sweetly.

Aulora gave a small, forced smile back to her teacher, as she nervously wound her fingers around the straps on her backpack.

"So, tell me, how do you like Jasper High so far?" Mrs. Thomas asked, turning back to her stack of ungraded papers, hoping to take some pressure of the clearly anxious teen.

"Uh, ok I guess," she replied.

"I know how you feel. I remember moving from New York out to this little desert town back when I was in high school, and let me tell you, it was a challenge."

"You went to Jasper High?" Aulora asked, curiously.

"Yep. Class of '05. I think there was a whole 43 kids in my graduating class," she replied with a chuckle.

"It's good to know Jasper never changed," Aulora replied, with a small chuckle, Mrs. Thomas joining her.

"Laughs aside, though, I know how tough a transition it can be, Aulora. So if you ever need to talk, my door is always open," she said, peering down at the girl with wide, gentle, strong eyes.

Aulora nodded. She suddenly caught sight of a small group of picture frames huddled in the far corner of Mrs. Thomas's desk, trying to conserve as much room as possible for her leaning towers of papers.

Mrs. Thomas followed her gaze and smiled, picking up a photograph the young teenager seemed to be particularly interested in.

"Is that your mom?" Aulora asked.

"Yeah. She was the one who encouraged me to become an English teacher. I didn't think I had what it took, but she kept pushing me, and I wouldn't be where I am now if it wasn't for her," she said, fondly.

"She seems nice," Aulora observed, studying the picture further.

"Oh, but don't let her looks fool you. She's a fiery woman when she needs to be and you don't want to mess with fire," Mrs. Thomas chuckled.

"Oh, don't be too hard on her. She doesn't seem that harsh," Aulora replied, smiling.

"Oh yeah?! Wait to you hear the story of our family's reunion in California. You would not believe the stunt she pulled…"

 

* * *

 

 

She unlocked the door and locked it behind her. It felt so weird being home at that hour. For the past few weeks, she had practically lived at base. She was there after school, well into the late hours of the night. Sometimes she would just sleep over there and ride with one of the bots to school. It almost felt like she was never home. It almost didn't feel like her house, as she scanned over her still bare house.

To her, it really hadn't mattered that she didn't buy any furniture yet because she was never home to realize its vacancy. But now, the bare walls and floors couldn't be any louder.

She let her bag slide to the floor, hearing the smack of her textbooks against the wood floor echo across the barren house.

Why was she even here? She had half a mind to scoop her backpack back onto her back, call up Ratchet for a ground bridge and head back to base. But she knew she couldn't do that. Not after what she had done.

She had put Optimus Prime in a coma.

The guilt bubbled in her unsettled mind, weighing down on her still dizzy head. It was all her fault. She had lied to Ratchet. She had told him that Optimus kept trying to make contact with her to instruct her to use the serum. She had lied to Ratchet and told him that Optimus had been reading up on the serum she protected and that it would help cure him. And now, Optimus might never walk away from the that damn medical berth. And all because she didn't want anyone to know of a second voice she was hearing in her head. She had been so desperate to believe the voice, that she put not only her leader, but her novice guardian's life on the line.

How could she have screwed up so badly!? How could she have let her stupidity gone so far!?

_**I'm sorry to interrupt, Aulora, but I was curious why you didn't inform Ratchet about me.** _

_**You! How dare you come into my head again! You have no right!**_  Aulora exclaimed. She placed a hand on her forehead. _Oh my gosh_ , she thought to herself. _I'm talking to myself again_. _I really am going crazy_.

_**Aulora, you are not talking to yourself and you are not going crazy.** _

Aulora felt like screaming.  _ **That's exactly what my head wants me to think!**_

_**Aulora, please recompose yourself. I am not a part of your head**_ the stranger replied. 

_**Oh yeah! And how do you plan on proving it!? Because the fact that Optimus is in a come right now is not helping your case at all!**_ Aulora yelled.

_**I know, Aulora, and for the pain it's been putting you through, I am truly sorry. Your serum is supposed to work, and I have to agree with your medic with his theory that this is a simply grave side**_ ** _affect, one that will remedy itself with time and rest_**  the mysterious Cybertronian explain. 

_**Just stop talking! Ugh, I really don't want to hear your voice right now! You're the reason Optimus may never was up again!** _

The Cybertronian heavily sighed, a brief pause keeping the young McAllister all the more agitated. _**Aulora, please, just listen to me for a second. I need to explain to you the gravity of the situation.**_

Aulora almost felt like laughing. _**You need to explain to me the gravity of the situation!? Optimus is in a coma and its all thanks to your wonderful advice!**_ she threw back.

_**Aulora, Optimus is running low on time**_ the voice instructed.

_**Oh yeah!? So you can just talk me into another on of your bright ideas!? No way, not going to happen. Heck, for all I know you could be a Decepticon who's trying to bump off my leader!**_  Aulora yelled back

She had simply been running with the fuel of her rant, but the heavy gravity that came with the possibility of her statement, that the voice in her head could be working for the other side, plotting against her's, sunk like the Titanic in her chest. 

An almost snort came from the other. _**Aulora, I can assure you I am not a Decepticon.**_

_**Oh yeah!? Then who are you!? I've been listening to your fantastic advice this whole time, and I don't even know your name or anything about you, for that matter! Why should I trust anything that comes out of your mouth!?** _

Another, almost tired, sigh. _**Aulora, please. You must go to Optimus. You can save. You must help him out of his coma. You can with your connection**_  the stranger begged. 

_**No, you know what? I'm not making one more move until I know your name, your species, your faction, your occupation, who you 'fizzed' out on me during our last conversation, what exactly you meant by your 'physical form' and the reason I can hear you in my head!**_ Aulora countered. 

She could tell the stranger's patience was running thin. Either Optimus was truly running out of time, or the stranger was. _**Aulora, the longer we stall, the less time Optimus has.**_

Aulora physically shrugged her shoulders. _**You're just wasting time here.**_

_**But-** _

_**Tick, tock. Tick, tock.** _

Another heavy sigh.  _ **Ugh,** **very** **well. If it will put you at ease. My designation is Stella. I am a Cybertronian and I hold allegiance to no faction, for I am a Neutral. I studied the ancient history of our planet before the Great War, and with the extensive knowledge concerning the Iacon Relics and their creations, I was consulted by members of the Vault when they began to house the Relics. The reason why our connection faded last time is direction tied to my 'physical state.' Towards the end of the war, I was caught in a dangerous explosion outside the city of Tyger Pax. I was in terrible shape. I was placed on your version of life support, in a medically induced stasis, and I have not awakened since. And the reason you can hear me in your head is for a reason that would take too long for me to explain.**_

Aulora shook her head. _**Not good enough.**_

She could feel the impatience seeping into her mind like icy cod water, her touch so hard and unforgiving, so foreign from Optimus's. It just felt so wrong. _**Aulora, I promise upon my very spark that after this ordeal is done and Optimus is well, the two of us can sit down and you can ask me all the questions in the universe. However, at this point, I simply ask that you trust me.**_

Aulora paused for a second, noticing that while she had been in the trance of her mental conversation with 'Stella' she had walked all the way into her kitchen and was now standing mere inches from its largest window.

Should she trust her?

What if she wasn't who she said she was? Sure she would answer all of her questions later. But if she was a Decepticon, she would've accomplished her mission of killing off Optimus Prime and it wouldn't matter if Aulora had questions.

And why was it that she chose now, of all times, to contact her? Truthfully, in Aulora's opinion, it seemed all too convenient for her to show up at the same time Optimus fell ill.

And how did she know all of that information about the "NBE1" and all of the other intel about the Decepticons? If Aulora had to make a guess, that kind of information was not something the 'Con's posted at the local post office on a bulletin board.

All odds seemed against the female voice dancing around in her head. But what if she was telling the truth? What if this was Aulora's only opportunity to save her leader?

What was she going to do?

 

 


	12. New Patient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate of A Shooting Star: Tilted Axis  
> New Patient
> 
> Team Prime's limits are pushed as they are met with the Decepticon's greatest force yet in the race for the remaining Iacon Relics, while Optimus Prime struggles with an unknown, yet fatal illness. Will Team Prime be able to keep the world safe while training a handful of new recruits? And will Aulora be able to find out who, exactly, is invading her mind?

The fatigued medic glanced over once again to look at the small teen huddled stiff with sleep against Optimus's hip, her chin resting on her knees, as her bloodshot eyes stared off into nothing.

She had contacted him hours ago, requesting a ground bridge back to base, where she had almost broken into a sprint up to Optimus's side. She hadn't moved or shifted since. As an acute observer, the medic was able to glean several details and vital signs from the young Aulora most of the other Autobots wouldn't have been able to detect. And one element of Aulora's rather weak and tired body that was most prominent to the seasoned CMO was the preoccupation her mind and attention seemed to have on something entirely foreign to the world around her.

Sure, he had detected many other factors of her health that were more detrimental to her well being than her mind simply being in another universe.

Her core temperature, for starters, though still relatively low, was slowly starting to climb. Her body seemed to be suffering the utmost deprivation of sleep he had ever encountered, and for a long-standing field medic, that was saying a lot. If there was any common ailment any troops under his care had suffered, it was lack of stasis, for many had withstood cycles upon cycles of battle, un-rested. Some became so fatigued, they simply passed out in the middle of the battlefield, their CPU's simply fried to rust. However, it appeared that the young McAllister was running on simply the air around her. She lacked any form of energy humans possessed and was simply functioning due to natural instinct, which had Ratchet assuming that the youngling had accomplished the feat of uninterrupted days before, which would build her strength to hold out longer than most.

But aside from all of those factors, fear and anxiety somehow falling into that mix, it was the way her eyes moved that had the front-line doctor truly worrying over her health. Though they were limply trained on her shoes at the present moment, there had been times throughout the past few hours where he had almost yelped in surprise when her eyes, with horrific speed, lurched in other direction, seemingly focused on something that clearly was not there. Then they would demonically leap to another unseen object, sometimes teeter back and forth, as if she was hearing something.

Though the medic was aware of many mechs and femmes who had also appeared "dazed" and "psychotic" without rest, there was something deep within Ratchet's programming that stalled his immediate diagnosis. Though her symptoms fit the diagnosis; delusional, distorted perceptions, possible hallucinations; something else was off about the young organic. Something else was at play.

Every circuit, every nerve in the medic's body screamed at him to ask his patient what was wrong. His processor would not be satisfied until he was able to remedy the problem. It was in his programming to "play the role" so to speak, of the doctor. But he couldn't bring himself to ask, which he finally realized all boiled down to the simple feeling of insecurity.

If it was Optimus or Bumblebee, the foolish youngling always hiding his symptoms in order to measure up to his leader, or any of the other 'Bots, there would not have been a second's hesitation. Ratchet would've even strapped them to the medical bay and wouldn't promise their release until they were up front with him. And in truth, he would've acted the same way with either Jack, Miko or Rafael. Though he certainly had not known them as long as he had the rest of Team Prime, the short amount of time they had spent together proved to the medic they were much more valuable, to him, than mere allies, and if any of them were ailing, he would have them undergo similar interrogation.

But Aulora was, altogether, an entirely different case.

His time spent with Aulora was erratic, as best. Though he had been introduced to the very young Aulora years ago upon the return of Cliffjumper and the arrival of Lorelei, he had only truly spoken with the little organic twice, before the McAllister's disappeared from their lives, the medic now knowing they had perished in a vehicle calamity. He only learned qualities of Aulora from Cliffjumper's daily log-in reports he had sent to Optimus during his recovery with Lorelei McAllister and her young niece.

And that was it.

Though Aulora had already logged a few weeks in, already, with Team Prime, her scholastic studies and his research on the new arrivals of the Iacon Relics hadn't left the medic and the young human many chances to interact. If they had, it was simply to run a scan on her still horrifically scarred arms, which was usually interrupted or cut short by their overwhelmed schedules.

It was no excuse, though. Aulora required attention, some medical and some emotional. But that was what he feared most; if there was an emotional instability. For the rest of Team Prime, Ratchet had never disliked coming to terms with the fact that as a doctor for the team, he would need to act as both a healer and a listener. But he had grown attached to, and comfortable with all of the team members, and would not hesitate to ask if something was amiss. Aulora was new. But that was not a good excuse. She needed help. And because her Telonian partner/partial guardian was in a coma at said moment, it was up to him to step forward and take the responsibility of watching over the clearly struggling youngling.

However, his thoughts were interrupted at the sound of a series of car horns, as Arcee, Bumblebee and Bulkhead drove into the base's entrance, their respective charges getting out/off of them as they transformed.

Raf was quickly sprinting up the steps to the second level with Jack and Miko close behind. "Ratchet, you gotta come check this out!" the small, 12 year old exclaimed.

Ratchet quickly rushed over to join the other Autobots who had already formed a semi circle in front of the small TV. Raf turned the small box on, showing a news report.

"….has been evacuated until the energy readings have been reduced and the area has been deemed safe for civilians. However, the solution to this problem still has not been found, as the radioactive levels continue to increase…."

"PRIME!"

All heads, save for Optimus and Aulora's, turned to the overhead screen as Agent Fowler's face appeared.

"Fowler," Arcee plainly addressed.

"Are you 'Bots seeing this!?" he exclaimed angrily.

"If you are referring to the latest news report from Russia, then yes we are seeing this," Ratchet informed.

"I've been able to pry the FBI, CIA and International Affair's grubby hands off of the area, but not for long. You guys need to get your butts in gear and come down before pictures of this thing leak onto the 8 o'clock news!" the liaison exclaimed.

"Wait, why do you need us?" Arcee asked.

"Because it's one of your toys! One of those relics you guys have been huntin' for!" he yelled.

"That's impossible!" Ratchet scoffed. "If there was a new Iacon relic that has entered Earth's atmosphere, our scanners would've have detected the foreign energy signature," Ratchet explained, hurriedly checking through the scanners database, just to make sure he hadn't missed something.

"Actually, it is possible." Team Prime turned, startled, to the new voice, watching as Nova's image floated up from her map.

"How?" Raf asked, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

"There were a few relics that Alpha Trion feared would fall into the wrong hands, on any planet, and wreak global panic," Nova responded.

"So he turned off their beacons," Jack reasoned, Nova nodding to his response.

"Yeah, but the 'Cons have the news like we do. They'll put two and two together eventually," Bulkhead stated.

"It's not the 'Cons we should fear, Bulkhead. Iacon relics with disengaged beacons were not built to be activated by the touch of a Cybertronian, but an organic's. Prevent a Deception from endangering an alien planet," Nova explained.

"And on a planet teaming with them…" Ratchet started.

"It was only a matter of time before a human discovered it," Jack finished.

"Well I don't care if Alpha Beta turned off its tracker. You guys need to get your heads outta the clouds and handle this, before the whole planet learns about it and aliens," Agent Fowler commanded the Autobots, before turning off the comm link.

"Well someone forgot to eat their Cheery-o's this mornin'," Bumblebee chirped, winking to his charge, Arcee, Bulkhead and Raf letting a small smile stretch on their faces.

"Jokes aside, we must contain this situation before your human organizations wise up to what exactly is causing disturbances," Ratchet instructed. He turned to Nova. "Do you think you will be able to direct us to the exact location of the relic?" he asked her.

"Absolutely," she responded.

"Wait, so who's calling the shots when Optimus is out of commission?" Bulkhead asked.

"With seniority in rank and profession, the chain of command would fall to Ratchet," Arcee explained, peering up at the chief medical advisor.

"And leave a comatose patient to go frolicking into the battlefield, I don't think so," Ratchet sarcastically replied.

"You're the oldest here, Bulk. You should call the shots!" Miko exclaimed, already drooling with excitement at the prospect of her guardian being leader for the day.

"Yeah, but Arcee has a longer track record as a certified soldier than me," the Wrecker pointed out.

"But despite his age and lack of experience, Bumblebee's spent the most time under Optimus's command," Arcee replied.

"So then you'll all just have to work as a team then. Take Nova with you and see if she can help you find the relic," Ratchet replied with a wave of his hand, already opening the ground bridge.

The three Autobots soldiers turned hesitantly to each other. An equal chain of command? The Wrecker, front-liner and scout all knew the complications of not having a designated leader. Any conflicting ideals or opinions were a dangerous thing to have in the heat of battle. There was no time to make a compromise or argue whose idea was the best. Though none of them wanted the relinquished title, they weren't all too convinced they wanted to go out without someone bearing it.

 

* * *

 

 

"Hey."

Jack and Raf looked up from their rather quiet video game to look over at the pink-haired, Japanese teenager. She tilted her head and nodded off to something behind them. They both turned around to spot Aulora huddled on the ground, her back up against Optimus's medical bay, as she stared at the ground.

As the kids turned back to each other, their eyes met, they nodded their heads simultaneously, and a common thought was passed. They all got up and made their way down the stairs and over to Aulora's small, curled form. Aulora hadn't even noticed Miko climb into the chair in front of her, spin it around, and sit down around its back, or Raf seat himself beside her. It took the force of Jack to sit beside her and place a hand on her shoulder to finally bring the quiet girl out of her deep thought.

"Oh, hey guys," she meekly replied.

"How yah holdin' up?" Miko asked, her voice strangely quiet and somewhat considerate.

Aulora exhaled a large, pent-up sigh. "Peachy," she replied.

"Don't worry, Aulora. Optimus'll wake up soon," Raf comforted.

"Optimus isn't the only one I'm worried about," Aulora added, almost absent-mindedly.

"What'd you mean?" Jack asked gently.

"Proditor's still cooped up in that holding cell, and he won't be able to get out until Optimus wakes up and verifies his allegiance to the Autobots," Aulora quietly explained.

"Wait, Optimus has met the big cat before?" Miko asked, her energy and volume quickly returning to her voice.

Aulora peered up at her guardian's still form, before turning her gaze back to the floor.

"Optimus's mind is on this continually loop of dreams and memories in his coma, which I can see as well. Apparently, he's met Proditor before in battle. If it wasn't for Proditor jumping in and drawing Megatron's attention away from Optimus, who was badly injured, he probably wouldn't be here right now," Aulora explained, the gravity of her statement almost rendering the other kids speechless.

Almost.

"So, he's not a part of that DJD group his pod came from?" Miko asked.

"No. I don't know how he ended up in there, but he officially severed his ties with the Decepticons immediately after he finally gained freedom from Soundwave's control," she explained further.

"So we need to get ole' Mr. Kitty Cat out of that cell," Miko stated firmly.

"But Aulora's right. Without Optimus to verify Proditor's leave of the Decepticons, the others are still going to question his loyalty and keep him in there, most likely away from us," Raf explained.

"So then why can't she just tell the 'Bots what she told us about Optimus's memory?" Miko exclaimed, hands in the air.

"Because they'll just think I want to get him out of there. They're gonna want to hear it from Optimus himself," Aulora suggested.

"So then Proditor's screwed, at least until Optimus is coherent," Jack reasoned.

"Which could take days…even weeks," Aulora said.

"Maybe I can check the 'Bots' database. They may have old, Cybertronian records that might've caught Proditor in action with the Autobots," Raf suggested, his face lighting up with excitement.

"Well come on, Gramps. There's no time like the present! Let's get rockin'" Miko exclaimed, quickly hopping off of her seat and jogging right behind the young Esquivel up to the main computers.

However, Jack stayed seated where he was, still looking at Aulora as she once again lost herself in her thoughts.

"Aulora," he called to her, gently, almost grimacing as she was roughly pulled from whatever peaceful world she had found outside of reality.

"Raf, Miko and I'll try and get Proditor out of there, but you have to promise me something," he continued softly. "I want you to talk to Ratchet."

"About what?"

"Anything. Anything you want," he said.

Aulora's eyebrow twitched in confusion. "Why Ratchet?" she asked.

"Because, despite his constant grumbling and complaining, he's a good listener, like really good. And the thing is, he gives really good advice. I don't know why. Maybe he was a psychologist back on Cybertron too, who knows. All I'm saying, whatever's weighing this down," he said, pointing to his head, "is something he can fix. I guess it's just a doctor thing."

She numbly laid her head on his strong shoulder, too tired to keep it suspended in the air another moment. He hugged her closer to him.

"I'm just worried about you, Aulora. You haven't slept, ate or said anything for the past few days," he whispered to her.

He felt her chest rise against his as she let out a large, pent-up sigh. He had been worrying about her ever since Optimus fell ill. Sure, he was worried about the Autobot leader. There was no doubt about that. Though he rarely engaged in a direct conversation with the large Cybertronian, and rarely saw him period, he had almost grown to think of him as something deeper than a leader. He couldn't figure out just what. But those few times he did converse with the wise Autobot made him feel…kind of special inside. Like he felt privileged when the solitary leader took time out of his day to maybe ask how Jack's was fairing, or maybe ask for his opinion on something, though that was a rather rare occurrence.

But to see Aulora like this, quieter and more submissive than normal, was almost heart-breaking to the hazel eyed 16 year old. As someone normally so happy and smiling, it was depressing to see a simple, straight line across her lips and her pure, crystal eyes almost a dark overcast to its usual shimmering blue.

At first, he was confused as to why Aulora would feel so…depressed over this.

Sure, Optimus's condition was getting to all of them, but Aulora hadn't grown fairly close to Optimus, at least that's what Ratchet had explained to him. Even with the ability to read each others' minds, they were constantly trying to avoid the other, and rarely spoke a word to each other. Granted, neither were much talkers to begin with. But the two took silence to a whole other level between each other. Yet, there she was, huddled miserably by his side throughout the whole experience, numerous times in tears. The only explanation he could offer was that was a lot more to their mind reading abilities than they let on, which also scared him a little.

He turned to look down at her.

"So, give anymore thought to the whole "Cliffjumper was a faker" theory?" he asked, suddenly realizing just how much had happened in Aulora's life since the day she got there.

Not only was it monumental for her to reunite with the long-lost team of friends, but it the span of the few weeks she had moved to Jasper, she had a mental breakdown with Optimus and later discovered she had gained this ancient mind language with the Last Prime, she went on a high-risk mission and saved the Prime's life, she was attacked by a lethal, Decepticon weapon, discovered Alpha Trion one of the original Primes, had visions of her and created a new group of relics just for her to use, and on top of all of that, she was working on a term paper for English class. Talk about hectic.

He watched as she slowly reached for her necklace and gently danced it across her fingertips.

"Do you know what he told me when he gave this to me?" she asked, her voice almost a hoarse whisper.

"What?"

"He told me that nothing is as it appears, and that just like me, there was more to the serum than meets the eye. Of course, this was in his laid-back, careless language of speaking, but essentially just as I had lots to find out about the serum, there were still lots of things I had to learn about myself as well," she explained.

"Do you think he knew about the language and the Zeta Relics?"

"Probably not. Plato once said that wise men speak when they have something to say, fools when they have to say something," she replied quietly.

Jack couldn't help but smirk and let out a small chuckle.

"Don't get me wrong, Cliff had several, scattered moments of wisdom, moments I'll never forget, but his constant ramblings usually weren't filled with a lot of substance," she said, a small smile on her face.

"What did Cliffjumper talk about?" Jack asked, always curious about the shoes he filled as Arcee's partner, but too scared to ask the front-liner himself.

"Mainly stories, which of course was alright with me. From Cybertron's Golden Age, to the years of the Great War and everything in between, Cliffjumper just continued to spew out every piece of knowledge he had gained over the years, though he definitely gave his partial side to many of the stories," she replied, still smiling as she reveled in the memories.

"Arcee doesn't talk about him a lot," Jack commented.

Aulora nodded. "If Cliffjumper wasn't talking about himself or the "fraggin' Cons" he was continually boasting about Arcee. I knew everything about her, from stats to chains of command," she explained.

Jack almost felt a little jealous. Why didn't he know about that kind of stuff. Come to think of it, he thought, there's not much about Arcee I do know. And yet years ago, a 9 year old Aulora hadn't even met his partner and already knew a lot more than he did after spending almost a year with her.

"You should ask her. You two are alike, you won't divulge much about yourself," Aulora responded, interrupting his thoughts.

His eyebrows twitched in bafflement. "How did you—"

"I'm not clueless, Jack. I'd be kind of weary too if I didn't know everything there is to know about my guardian," she responded with a small smile.

Aulora nodded, turning to look back up at Optimus.

"You know he asked if he could be my guardian?" she asked, still watching the weakened leader.

Jack's eyes widened. "What!? Aulora, that's great," he said, watching the young girl below him for a reaction, his arms instinctively wrapped around her shoulders to comfort, a gesture he had often made with his mom when she came home from work sometimes, so drained and exhausted.

"Isn't it?" he asked, watching as her face held an unknown emotion.

He felt her shoulders shrug underneath his arm.

"Why would he want to be _my_  guardian?" she asked, looking up into Jack's patient eyes.

Jack looked at her peculiarly.

"Why _wouldn't_  he want to be your guardian?" he asked. Nothing against Arcee, but he would've thought it'd be pretty cool to have the mighty, stoic Autobot leader as his protector. There was something else tugging at Aulora's mind.

"I don't know. I guess…he's a Prime and everything…I just figured he'd need somebody more…special I guess," she whispered.

"Aulora, look at me. Don't sell yourself short, alright. You are an incredible person, and Optimus is lucky to have you," he said.

Aulora couldn't help but become lost in a distant memory, the hazy lights of the Foley's family room and the soothing, warm glow of the fire place dancing across her skin as if it was only yesterday.

_Dozens upon dozens of kids were scattered across the large house, the fresh smell of pine, roasting chestnuts and eggnog creating a thick fog of warm, spirited joy. As parents conversed around the dining room table, no doubt complementing Mr. and Mrs. Foley on their lovely vacation property, nestled gently in the folds of Oregon's countryside, the young children continued to socialize in the immense, high-ceiling family room. As some of Austin Foley's friends had joined him in pestering a few of the girls with remote control helicopters, others had began haphazardly pounding their small, untrained fingers across the Foley's large, grand piano, tucked to the side of the marble-floored room. Some children had already fallen under the spell of Rudolph as he danced across the large, television screen and still there were others who were content on simply sitting along the sofa seats, simply watching the large lights on the ten foot Christmas tree dance across the dimly lit room as they conversed amongst each other._

_A group of those girls had drifted their glares to the small girl who had huddled herself close to the heavily decorated pine, who had her complete and utter attention averted to the book in front of her, completely unaware of the snickering and gossiping loops the girls had begun, uncomfortable and clearly jealous of her natural beauty and her self-confidence. It didn't help that many boys had purposely flown their helicopters or throw their balls in her direction, hoping to gain her attention somehow._

_She habitually wrung her small finger through her curls, which were gently pulled up by a clip to the top of her head, letting them dangle like the tinsel that twirled down from the branches beside her. She wore a pink, soft turtle-neck sweater, complemented with a grey, flared skirt and a pair of knee high boots. Her pale blue irises flew across the page, as the world continued to spin around her._

_A tall, slender woman with wavy, dark chestnut hair watched protectively and skeptically over the small girl next to the Christmas tree, sighing out loud to herself._

_"I don't know what to do with her, June. She just can't seem to get her head out of those books," she said, leaning against the kitchen island, a glass of red wine dancing nimbly amongst her fingertips._

_The woman next to her smiled, as she too watched the small girl, her hazel eyes scrunching with amusement as she flipped her small, jet black shoulder ponytail back over her shoulder._

_"Oh don't worry about her, Rachel. She'll come into her own someday, don't worry," she comforted._

_Rachel slightly jumped, but smiled as she followed the stranger's arm around her waist to find kind, green eyes smiling down at her, amongst a few, thick pieces of scattered brown hair._

_"Don't worry about her, Rache. She's perfectly fine the way she is," he comforted._

_"See, listen to Dan. If I only I was that lucky to have Jack so into books like that," June laughed, the couple soon joining her chuckles._

_"I know it's just…she's not going to make friends if she keeps reading books in corners. Do you know what her teacher told me the other day? That she's antisocial. I don't want her to be antisocial," she said, turning her concerned gaze back to her daughter._

_"Oh, don't listen to them. Jack's teacher told Art and I the other day that Jack needed to be more creative in class, that we should sign him up for art classes," June said, a large smirk on her face._

_"Where is Arthur anyway? I haven't seen him all night?" Rachel asked._

_There was a noticeably fall in June's brightened face but she quickly shook it off. "He's working overtime at the office," she replied._

_June suddenly turned down to a hand grabbing at her cardigan._

_"Mom, can we go home now? I'm bored."_

_"Jack, we just got here," she said, habitually combing her hand through his messy hair._

_"You know what, Jack? Do you see that girl over there by the tree?" Mrs. Darby said, pointing over to the family room. Jack nodded._

_"She's Mr. and Mrs. McAllister's daughter. Why don't you go say hi?" she asked._

_Jack finally turned his head to see the girl beneath the Christmas tree. And as Mrs. Darby waited patiently for her son's eminent complaints and agitation, she watched, astounded, as her son walked toward the girl without the slightest hint of objection. Jack had wanted nothing to do with girls at that age, convinced they were always out to get him somehow, especially after Brittany had told the teacher it was Jack who had lost the class's only kickball. And Mrs. Darby couldn't help but let her mouth fall to the floor as her young, 10 year old almost excitedly walk over to the secluded young McAllister by the tree. Wait 'till she told Art._

_The small girl continued to keep her eyes glued to the page, until she felt a strong and able prescience beside her._

_"Hi there," he said._

_His voice was strong, deep and unwavering, much like his hands that soon clasped together in his lap. She finally turned to look at his face. He had a shaggy mop of jet black hair that seemed to have a mind of its own, its bangs almost touching his eyes. She had never been into boys with hair like his, but on him…it didn't seem to matter. It seemed to fit him._

_She gave a small smile, keeping her lips closed, showing the older boy before her that she had heard him, and then went back to her book._

_"Scrooge is in that one, right?" he asked, pointing to the cover of her book._

_The young girl couldn't help but feel utterly surprised. All she had ever heard from other kids her age was why was she was reading a book. They would keep walking past her, never asking her to join anything, and act like reading alone was weird. No one had ever step forward, acknowledged her and then asked about her book. She looked up at the boy with a new set of eyes, not only deeply shocked by his knowledge of a Charles Dickens, most kids her age simply intrigued by the Harry Potter series, none of them truly able to comprehend it, but she was most certainly caught off guard by his simple interest in her. His decency, his class, his gentleness…she was deeply intrigued with him. She simply nodded her response, unable to produce any words._

_"I'm Jack, by the way. Jack Darby," he said, holding out a steady hand to the timid soul beside him._

_Jack Darby. She let the name roll around in her mind a little before stretching out her hand and shaking his, blushing at the firmness behind his rather large hand._

_"Aulora," she responded._

_He began to blush, as well, at the pure sweetness of her voice, so clear and kind._

_"Have you been to Austin's Christmas party before?" he asked, gesturing to the crowd of kids around them._

_She nodded her head. "This is my fifth one. But I think I'm only invited because our fathers work together," she explained, Jack startled by her abruptness. Most kids he knew obsessed over this Christmas party, bragging to everyone for weeks when they finally received the invitation in the mail. Being invited to Austin's Christmas party was pretty big, everyone trying to befriend the small, pudgy trouble-maker just to make it to this annual celebration. And here, this strange girl before him didn't seem too thrilled to be there, trying to absorb herself in the book._

_"Yeah. I think he invited me because we worked on a science project this year," he said, simply shrugging. And Aulora knew he was probably right. Though Austin wasn't a very well-respected person, he continually surrounded himself with well-to-do, upstanding kids with spoiled desires. Jack didn't seem like a boy who worried about the materialistic and superficial things Austin and his "friends" did. But that's what made him all the more kind and respectable in her eyes._

_"But I'm happy I came," Jack interjected, watching as Aulora's bright blue eyes intensely studied him._

_"Why?" she asked._

_"Because I wouldn't have met the prettiest and nicest girl in school," he said, watching as her small cheeks quickly matched the color of the red ribbon around the tree._

_And the three adults watched contently as their children stayed by that Christmas tree the rest of the night, talking the hours away with anything and everything their minds could think of, smiling and giggling amongst each other, not a care in the world of what was going on around them._

_The young Darby waited, patiently, until the next Christmas party came, finally able to see the young McAllister again. But he returned to find an empty spot next to the tree that year. It was only days later, when he watched as Aulora's mom, dad and aunt were slowly lowered into the ground, that he wasn't going to see her again for a long, long time._

 

* * *

 

 

Ratchet quickly turned his head to the sound of a small yelp off to his right. He spotted Aulora, resting on a second med bay he had pulled out for her. And after hearing another series of small yells coming from her direction, he quickly rushed to her side, kneeling down on one knee.

Her body was rigidly bent, her arms tightly grasping her arms and her legs horrifically twitching in un-natural motions. Her limbs shook with an unprecedented force, as if shivering in horror. He watched as small beads of sweat had begun to drip down the sides of her red, flushed face along with streams of tears. Her mouth quivered, as another series of moans and yells echoed from her mouth. They sounded painful, as if echoing from the bowls of the Pits themselves, coated fiercely with sorrow and despair. Ratchet almost fell backwards after she released a deafening scream that tore ruthlessly at his spark.

And with a supernatural force, she immediately jerked up into a sitting position, letting out one more painful yell before her eyes flew open. Ratchet laid his hand on her backside, gently rubbing this thumb between the shoulder blades of her back.

"Shhhh, it's alright, Aulora. You're safe," he gently reassured.

She clutched a hand to her furiously beating chest and another one on her mouth, as if trying to stifle another wave of screams she might not be able to control. He felt her body shaking in complete shock and fear, her eyes frantically darting all around her, trying to get her bearings on where she was.

"Everything's fine, Aulora. It was just a nightmare," Ratchet soothingly explained. He had seen this millions of times. One of the most common forms of PTSD among the troops were recurring nightmares, some so hellish it would make Unicron stir in his sleep. He remembered working late nights and hearing the howls of agony that would rip through the empty hallways like swords through mesh.

Aulora had finally unlatched her hand from her mouth, her heavy breathing finally settling down.

Ratchet opened his subspace and drew out a small water bottle, having started a stash of them after discovering recently how soon it took for organics to perish from dehydration.

Aulora gratefully took the water from him, taking a few steady gulps before closing the cap and relaxing her on-edge muscles.

"Are you alright?" Ratchet asked, still keeping his steady hand on her back.

She slowly nodded her head, but avoided his gaze.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked. He could see her face trying to register his question. Had he gone too far? He was almost startled when he heard Aulora's gentle, quiet voice respond.

"If you're not busy, there is something that I've been meaning to tell….somebody, it's just…I haven't been able to find the words to explain it," she replied.

An almost satisfied smile came over Ratchet's faceplate as he nodded to the small human.

"I'm all audio receptors," he replied.

"Well, it all started when Optimus first fell sick. At first I actually thought it was Arcee—"

 


	13. A Chance At Redemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate of A Shooting Star: Tilted Axis  
> A Chance At Redemption
> 
> Team Prime's limits are pushed as they are met with the Decepticon's greatest force yet in the race for the remaining Iacon Relics, while Optimus Prime struggles with an unknown, yet fatal illness. Will Team Prime be able to keep the world safe while training a handful of new recruits? And will Aulora be able to find out who, exactly, is invading her mind?

 

Another one. Another stupid relic.

Just when she thought she was done briefing Fowler on Team Prime's strategy of containment for the organic-only relic, Ratchet called them out again. Only this time, this was a Cybertronian friendly relic. Well, that is for the one who was wielding it.

Arcee gripped the Spark Extractor tightly within the nook of her arm, glaring at the Decepticon Medical Examiner, daring the red sports car to take it from her. To two skeptically watched the other, both of them breathing heavily as the sound of fatal blaster shots whizzed around them.

"Come on, Knockout. Try and take it," Arcee victoriously taunted, already confident at the sight of the falling Decepticon drone bodies around her that Team Prime was going to walk away with that relic. However, her triumphant smile quickly turned into a skeptically frown as she watched cautiously as the Aston Martin's eyes gleamed with an unseen feeling of success.

"As much as I would love to continue this heated battle with you, my dear Arcee, I have a new friend I want you to meet. I know he'll just rock your world," he replied, a smile crossing his face-plates.

It was an understatement to say the two-wheeler was caught off guard.

With his infamous electric prod in hand, Arcee begrudgingly admitted that if the self-righteous medical officer had stayed at it a little longer, he would've been able to get the upper hand on her.

Without Optimus's size and fire-power, it was no doubt harder for their trio tag-team to inflict as much damage as they had made without Optimus's much-needed assistance. The young Prime had fallen into the routine, over the past week, of being the eyes and ears for the relic, safely securing the artifact as Arcee, Bumblebee and Bulkhead fended off the Decepticons. And when their leader became preoccupied with Megatron, their tightly-knit, organized system of fighting allowed Optimus to call out to one of his soldiers and instruct them to obtain the relic, knowing the others had his back.

It was haphazard, to say the least, of what their plan of attack was that afternoon. On top of the absence of their leader, simply knowing that he still remained in a coma back at base was enough to tilt Bulkhead, Arcee and Bumblebee completely off their axis. The young scout was the easiest to read, his punches and kicks so sporadic and unconfidently violent it almost appeared it was his first day on the job. Bulkhead had lost his train of attention numerous times, being overtaken by several shots that any rookie could have avoided. And though Arcee still remained cool and collected as always, a quick look into her mystical blue and violet optics would convince anyone that she was battling her own demons on and off the battlefield.

The battle seemed to almost instantly hush and still as the sound of overhead jets reached their audio receptors. Everyone, including the Decepticons quickly peered up to the sky at the sound of familiar, yet equally strange flyer. The Decepticon drones simultaneously began to retreat behind Starscream, Knockout and Breakdown, all of them smiling smugly at the still clueless Autobots.

 _"Megatron?"_  Bumblebee asked, looking over to his teammates.

"No. Same size but definitely different engine," Bulkhead replied, straining his audio receptors harder to the pattern of the whooshing wind.

"The 'Cons don't have any Seekers as big as Megatron," Arcee added.

Team Prime's suspicions were answered as a dark shape flew like a rocket down from the sky, shaking the ground as it forcefully landed. As the dust cleared, the three Autobots couldn't help but stare, mouths agape, at the beastly flyer before them, his armor a dark midnight blue, with splashes of yellow and piercing red eyes.

"Ok, I still don't know who it is," Bulkhead whispered to his comrades as the looming shadow of the beast advanced on them, pedes colliding with the ground in an explosion of trembles.

 _"He has a twin?!"_  Bumblebee gasped, flashbacks of Optimus and his excursion in Nevada's deserts clouding his mind.

The mech's eyes narrowed, his lip curling in a growl, as his booming voice addressed the Autobots.

"I am Dreadwing. And for the death of my brother, all Autobot scum will pay with their sparks!"

 

* * *

 

 

"If she _is_  a Decepticon, any prolonged amount of time in your mind could offer her enough information of the team and our base's whereabouts," Ratchet commented, pondering in thought as he rubbed at his chin.

"I know," she replied. She turned back up to look at the medic. "So what do we do?" she asked.

Ratchet continued to remain deep in thought for a few more moments, letting his CPU catch up with all of the information that had been laid out before him.

"The situation must be addressed, somehow someway. If she is an ally and telling the truth, we must aid her. If not, than we must deal with this threat at once before she ends up gaining enough knowledge of us to issue a devastating assault," Ratchet reasoned.

He turned his eyes back to the small human before him.

"Is she in your head right now?" he asked.

Aulora shook her head. "I think she's too weak from our last conversation," she replied.

"So there is something sapping away at her energy, whether she's on the threshold of death, or not," Ratchet commented, letting that sink in and eliminate a few possible explanations he had created.

"What do you think we should do?" Aulora asked wearily, already rubbing at her bloodshot, stinging eyes.

"I don't know, Aulora. I am no Optimus. He would be the one to provide a better plan of attack," Ratchet explained quietly, as if the leader beside the two could hear them converse.

"So then we're going to Cybertron?" she asked.

"First of all, if we _do_  become that desperate, which I wish upon the All Spark we don't, there is most certainly no _we_. Cybertron isn't safe for natives," he said, gesturing to himself, "than for a novice inhabitant, such as yourself. No, Cybertron would be our last option."

"But what other options are there?" Aulora asked. "We need to go see her for ourselves and figure out if she's on our side, or the other," she explained.

Though Ratchet hated to admit it, Aulora was right.

They couldn't afford to relax and wait for Stella to make contact again and they needed Aulora to find her mind amongst…well whatever was left of Cybertron. If she was an Autobot, it was their obligation and moral duty to help her. If she was a Decepticon, they needed to put a stop to her before she ended up gaining every secret they ever owned and relaying it to Megatron.

And the only way they were going to find out, for sure, where her allegiance lay, was they would have to see her, face to face.

 

* * *

 

 

"What!?" Bulkhead asked, deeply confused.

"You're kidding…right?" Arcee asked, peering down at the medic as he hunched over Bumblebee's wings, gently trying to repair a few painful scratches that had been inflicted by a very aggravated Decepticon SIC, especially after the young scout roughly round-house kicked the Seeker straight into a bush rich with large thorns. Ratchet was thankful the trio had commed for a bridge right after Dreadwing's introduction, knowing only Optimus was equipped to handle a threat such as that of a extremely loyal Decepticon.

 _"That place is really-OOWWW!"_ Bumblebee wailed, just as Ratchet's welders gently traced over a small patch of wiring along the wing's connective joints.

"Just a few more patches, Bumblebee," Ratchet replied, gently and apologetically, wincing himself as the scorching hot tools grazed against exposed and extremely sensitive wires. The young Praxian was not only grateful for Arcee's steady hand in his, reassuringly squeezing his digits when Ratchet's welders came too close, but also for the fact that his charge was in school, hating to see the look on Raf's face when he was in pain.

"I do not like the prospect, myself, of embracing Cybertron's rather foul and unkept atmosphere, but we are dealing with a dangerous situation of possible discovery. Until any of us are able to make a sound piece of judgment concerning this "Stella" are lives and the lives of our human allies are at stake. For all we know, Stella could be probing Aulora's mind right now for information," Ratchet explained.

"Or she might not be," Arcee replied.

"Are you willing to take that risk?" Ratchet asked.

Arcee remained silent, Ratchet knowing the front-liner would never do anything brash, especially when it involved the safety of her teammates, and her human.

"So what, we're just going to walk around Cybertron and hope that we're going to stumble upon her?" Bulkhead asked.

"That's implying we even make it to Cybertron. I'm assuming you're looking to seize the 'Con's spacebridge again," Arcee questioned.

"Actually, if my calculations are fairly accurate, we won't have to," Ratchet explained.

"Oh yeah, and where are we going to find another one, huh? You lookin' to rebuild the one we blew up!?" Bulkhead asked.

"No, Bulkhead, let's not be foolish here! I have plans for Aulora and I, along with Raf's assistance, to hack into a spacebridge on Cybertron."

 _"Wait, what!?"_ Bumblebee asked, hoarsely.

"Ok, now I know you've got a secret stash of high-grade," Bulkhead replied sarcastically, though his voice didn't sound quite so sure.

With the incredible speed and swiftness, Ratchet grabbed a well-scratched wrench and threw it with great speed and accuracy, his scowl tightening with gratification as the tool made a solid clang against the Wrecker's head.

"What the Pit, Ratchet!?" Bulkhead exclaimed, rubbing his sore head.

"This is no time to be fooling around, Bulkhead! Aside from our lives, Aulora's safety is at grave risk! If Stella was truly an ally of the Decepticons, it would take no effort at all to completely crush Aulora's mind with a simple thought and leave the youngling completely brain dead!" Ratchet fiercely exclaimed, challenging the Autobots before him to question the unbelievable amount of lives at stake due to this small but radical new discovery.

The gravity of the medic's statement rendered the bots speechless. Even Bulkhead had stopped rubbing his sore head to ponder over Ratchet's statement. Their stared pensively down at the floor.

 _"Why didn't she tell us sooner?"_  Bumblebee asked quietly.

"Truly, I do not blame her. If I had been subject to similar events she has faced in the past few weeks, I would not want to divulge anything to anyone. All of this is foreign to her; a mind connection, personally designed relics and not to mention the death of a mech she truly adored," Ratchet explained, Arcee's eyes noticeably growing cloudy as they shifted back down to the floor. "We have expected her to handle this as a soldier, for that's what we all are. I blame myself for not approaching the human sooner and consulting her about any troubles," Ratchet sighed, momentarily stopping in his work.

Arcee turned back up to Ratchet with determination in her eyes. "So what do you need us to do?" she asked.

Bulkhead and Bumblebee turned to her with startled eyes.

"Arcee, you can't be serious!? You're just going to let Ratchet take Aulora to Cybertron!?" the Wrecker exclaimed.

"Not without us, he isn't. So what's the plan, Ratchet?" she asked again.

"Due to our lack of fire power," he started, nodding over to the still comatose leader, "and our currently crippled Scout—"

 _"I am not crippled! I'm fine, Doc!"_ Bumblebee exclaimed, almost causing Ratchet to stumble with his still extremely hot welders.

"You are not fit for duty, Bumblebee! Call it what you want, but you are confined to base until further notice!" the medic exclaimed, the Scout noticeably slouching with defeat.

"As I was saying, due to our lack of reinforcements, I came upon a rather difficult but possible alternative to reaching Cybertron without seizing and holding the Decepticons' space bridge," Ratchet explained.

"Which would be—"

"To get Aulora to pry Stella's mind for the femme's location. Aulora informed me that "Stella" is on life support while at the same time keeping her in temporary stasis as she heals. There are only 5 facilities on Cybertron that have equipment similar to the description, and each one is equipped with an emergency override space bridge," Ratchet explained.

"What's that?" Bulkhead asked, trying desperately to keep up with the medic's fast thought process.

"They were used in med facs. If no one was there to open a ground bridge for any emergency personnel, if they had the unlock code, they could enter it into the space bridge's frequency and the main computer would automatically open a bridge from their position to the facility," Arcee explained, remembering back when a particular rescue team that had been deployed to aid her and a few other fallen teammates, had used that method of transport.

"Precisely. If this femme is telling the truth, with a simple 4 character code we could bridge straight from Earth to the femme's medical facility," Ratchet explained.

"Why is she still there in the first place? Medically induced stasis's are temporary. Once the patient's healed, it's shut off," Arcee asked.

"We'll find out when we get there, I assume," Ratchet replied.

"Does Aulora know she's going to Cybertron?" Bulkhead asked.

"She was actually the one who came up with the idea," Ratchet added, slowly smoothing the fresh welds on Bumblebee's armor before finishing up.

"So when do we leave?" Arcee asked, watching as Ratchet powered down his tools and stood up from his hunched form over Bumblebee's back.

"As soon as Aulora arrives back from school. Agent Fowler has also agreed to supply us with a suit that should protect Aulora from Cybertron's lack of oxygen and abundance of chemicals," he added.

"Any progress from Optimus?" Bulkhead asked, turning back around to sadly watch his still unconscious leader.

"Vitals have slowly started to stabilize. The serum most definitely decreased the concentration of the virus. Now, there's just the obstacle of Optimus waking up," the medic explained.

 

* * *

 

 

"Dreadwing. My most loyal soldier. It has been awhile. I was pleased to hear from Soundwave your arrival to Earth and that you had already aided my soldiers in battle," the Lord of Darkness addressed, watching as the large Seeker slowly rose from his crouched bow before his master.

"Indeed, Lord Megatron. I had no intention of traveling this far into this corner of the galaxy. But the passing of my brother tore through my spark and guided me here, to this rather remote planet," Dreadwing explained.

"Yes, it was a rather…trying time for the Decepticons when news reached of Skyquake's….demise," Megatron replied, acid on his tongue, as he turned to glare at his SIC, who trembled beneath his master's dangerous glower.

"And that is why I am here Lord Megatron. I offer my undying service to you, Master, in the fight against the Autobots. For I vow, upon my spark, that every last one will pay dearly for what they did to Skyquake," the twin Seeker grumbled.

A vicious and electric smile caressed Megatron's face plate. "Excellent," he replied.

 

* * *

 

 

"I don't know if I can do this, Ratchet."

The small, soft voice aroused the medic from his deep thoughts, as he turned to address Aulora. He watched, slightly amused, as she stared up at him with wide, piercing blue optics, her small body enlarged to twice her size by the immense space suit that cupped around her body like a billowing parachute. And despite her journey ahead of her to an unknown, mysterious planet, made known to her only through old, childhood tales, the senior medical officer knew that that wasn't what the tiny human was referring to.

"In all honesty, Aulora, I'm not quite sure if you can physically accomplish it, either. But we must try," he explained to her, resting his large fingers upon her shoulder, crouching down to look at little femme in the eyes.

And at that moment, he made a silent vow to himself and to the universe, that when they returned from Cybertron, and they were able to get Optimus back up on his feet, he was going to rehabilitate the patient before him. There was no avoiding it. Whether it be more sleep, a peaceful mind-set, a better grasp on her mental connection, the medic was intent on finally relieving the youngling before him of any sufferings. He was immediately filled with utter shame that he had let her condition continue on this long, though he hid it very well beneath his determined, straight-lined expression.

She slowly nodded her head. She could do this. If she did it under hundreds of feet of water with the pressure of a drowning leader upon her shoulders, sifting through Stella's mind should be…something along the lines of a piece of cake.

She closed her eyes and let her mind relax and gently fold in on itself, feeling the familiar daunting immensity of her mind before her, her empty thoughts dancing across the empty, spacious air before her like small gusts of wind.

She let her fuzzy, borderless mind flow contently out of its constrictions within her head. She reveled in the awesomeness of her mind almost floating above her body, its possible paths of travel now limitless as it discovered its release from its cage. And it was here, in this realm of uncertainty and freedom where her mind found another in close proximity.

She almost melted in utter ecstasy at the feeling of Optimus golden, honey like mind and soul floating throughout the expanse of mental waves around them. She could feel him immediately reach out to her prescience and envelop her in a warm, strong, protective embrace. But she felt the shivering dagger of fear tear ruthlessly at her heart as Optimus's mind continued to revel in hers. It was a free mind. Unlike hers, Optimus's was not anchored to a body, a soul. It was simply floating outside the domain of his body with nowhere to go.

It couldn't return home.

His comatose body a released the binds around his mind, letting fly away. It brought cruel pain to her gut to watch his inner being be so lost and free. And it pained her even greater to know that she didn't have time, at that moment, to comfort the lost soul. She had another objective. And as every nerve, every fiber of her being screamed in agony at the feeling of helplessness clouding over Optimus's mind as he felt her slip slowly away from him, she gently pushed her leader out of her mind and focused at the task again.

She once again let her mind relax, letting its boundaries open once more. But this time, she pushed them away further. She felt herself nudging against the invisible bonds around her mind. Though free from her head, she was still confined to its limited range of motion. It was chained to base, it was only allowed the space to travel to Optimus's, and no further. But she needed to go further. But the walls wouldn't budge. She tried to muster every ounce of strength she had, already able to taste the true flavor of freedom on the other side of the walls. Once she truly broke free, there was no stopping her. But she couldn't do it. Her mind was nowhere strong enough to handle such independence. She was still a novice.

Suddenly, though, she couldn't help but sense something beside her mind. It was weak, but within seconds, its small familiar nudge against her prescience made her smile in complete elation. She pleasured in the all too familiar red and blue color scheme that softy invaded her senses.

Optimus.

She felt his soothing prescience slide right next to hers, as she could feel it ripple as it too began breaking the walls down beside her. She almost cried at the sight before her, but a firm nudge once more from her guardian reminded her that time was of the essence.

But she had so many questions.

How did he know what she was trying to do? Did he know was she was trying to do? How did he, in a coma, have the mental capacity to give her strength? How did he, in a coma, have enough sense to know where to go or what to do?

_**Aulora, focus.** _

She felt like sobbing in content at his firm, booming voice as it echoed happily across her heart. But he was right; she needed to focus. She slid right next to Optimus, their energies clasping together perfectly, as with one finally push, the duo collided into the barrier and sent it shattering across the mental waves. Aulora suddenly felt her mind jolt with nauseating speed out of the base, leaving Optimus's mind behind her. She reeled back in fear as she looked down on the shrinking shape of Jasper, her vision cruising through the atmospheres, until she stared in utter fascination at the stars and galaxies dancing around her. But her mind continued to sail through space, past the moon and planets and out of her galaxy, fueled by an energy she had no idea she possessed. Suddenly, she was before Cybertron. And just when she thought she would get the chance to finally see the long lost planet, her line vision immediately changed, zooming into a particular area, where she could feel a cold, strange prescience. It was a mind like Optimus's, but it was an odd one. She didn't know how to describe than simply a puzzle piece that belonged to a different puzzle. It was like the energy didn't fit the host. She immediately knew it was Stella's mind she was sensing, but she couldn't describe what was wrong with it.

Her senses suddenly jolted to life with a single thought; the code. Her mind seemingly already sensing it had what it needed, it began to fall. All Aulora could do was scream in silence as her free-falling mind fell out and away from Cybertron, plummeting down through space at a speed she couldn't even process. Suddenly, she was plunging past the moon, and saw clouds enter her vision. With an unprecedented gravity, her mind descending straight back into her body, her limbs suddenly coming to life as she looked hazily around her atmosphere.

"Aulora, are you alright!?" A faint voice sounded somewhere before her.

"Omega 1 J Delta," she felt her throat whisper hoarsely, her body still numb.

"What?"

"Omega 1 J Delta."

And suddenly, Aulora's world turned pitch black, her body limply collapsing to the floor in exhaustion.

 

* * *

 

 

A small gust of wind brushed against the arid ground, taking with it a few pieces of burnt debris and the heavy stench of dry Energon as it traveled further across the expanse. The odor of death hung thick within the air, floating hauntingly above the scattered body of fallen soldiers that littered the ground like grains of sand on a shore, along with thick smoke that continued to billow from burnt building and cities, eaten by fire eons ago, their ashes still smoldering.

Suddenly, a flash of green erupted in the middle of the dark and dreary expanse, followed by the appearance of a dark purple front-liner, a green Wrecker and the Autobot CMO, cupping an unconscious human gently in his hand. The Wrecker and front-liner kept their weapons trained on the world around them, expertly peering around their surroundings for any signs of danger, but they couldn't help but sneak long-awaited peeks at their old home, though it no longer resembled the state of its former glory. Their saddened eyes beheld their cherished planet, one they had fought millennia to protect only to discover it had began to fade the day it was first created. Even during its Golden Age, Cybertron's caste system had doomed the planet from the beginning.

"If Aulora's code is correct, that means Stella should be stationed at the Beta Triage Facility right outside Polyhex," Ratchet explained peering around.

"We're standing at the old entrance, so the patient department should be just ahead," Bulkhead informed, pointing at a fairly large, somewhat intact building in the distance.

"So then let's get moving. The faster we find her, the faster we can leave," Ratchet replied, glancing hesitantly as the shifting shadows of the demolished city. To him, Cybertron had become nothing more than an abandoned graveyard.

"Alright, I'll lead. Bulk, you stay behind Ratchet and keep your eyes peeled. Megatron no doubt kept a stash of his lackey's here to guard the place," Arcee called over to the Wrecker, the latter replying with a firm nod.

And the group started off, making their way over and under fallen buildings and structures, all of them haunted by the sight of their home and the memories that gathered with it.

 

* * *

 

 

 _"Let me out there!"_  Bumblebee practically screamed at the monitor, his trembling fingers locked around the railing as the screeching sound of metal against metal echoed through the base.

"No, Bumblebee! You are in no shape to fight and would only hinder us!" the Autobot medical exclaimed, the three children surrounding the yellow scout terrified by the rare show of fearful urgency in Ratchet's voice.

_"But Ratchet –"_

"I said no, Bumblebee!" Ratchet yelled back at him through the open comm. Link.

The scout looked crestfallen and ashamed, feeling utterly worthless as the rest of his teammates struggled to overcome two patrolling Insecticons, while keeping Aulora out of harm's reach. Raf watched with saddened eyes as his guardian ran his shaking digits along his head, beeping out a long string of curses as he grumbled to himself.

"Bee, it's not your fault," Raf reassured, depressed to see his Autobot in such a miserable mood.

"Yeah, Bee. Bulk and Cee know what they're doing," Miko added.

 _"Are you kidding me?! Megatron left most of the Insecticons back on Cybertron to kill off any Autobot stupid enough to return home. Why? Because they were killing machines. And now they're up against two with Aulora and Ratchet to look after!"_ Bumblebee exclaimed, frustratingly waving his arms in the air.

Raf translated for the other two humans.

"So they need more fire power," Jack reasoned.

"And where're they going to get that!? Bee's out of commission and Optimus is having an eternal siesta over there," Miko exclaimed.

Jack's eyes suddenly lit with realization as he remembered back to his earlier conversation with Aulora.

"There's still one person we can call for back-up," Jack explained.

 _"Wheeljack left the sector weeks ago and won't return until next week! He's too far off to call for help!"_ Bumblebee exclaimed helplessly.

"I'm not talking about Wheeljack," Jack replied, after Raf translated, watching as realization suddenly crawled into the faces of his human companions. Miko's face twinkled with a devious grin.

"Alright. Time to wake up the Cheshire Cat," she added.

 

* * *

 

 

As the powerful surge of boredom was seconds away from pulling the large Cybertronian cat into another lazy sleep, his ears suddenly perked and twitched at the sound of running. He slowly opened his lethargic eyelids and peered over his shoulder at his cell door behind him. He leapt back in surprise, nimbly landing on his feet, his body crouched and ready for attack as he stared back at 4 sets of optics.

"Woah there kitty," Miko playfully called out to him.

"It's ok, Proditor. We're not here to hurt you," Jack said, gently spreading his open palms out to the creature, who had slowly made its way up to the bars. He glanced warily up at the yellow Scout, who returned an equally cautious look to the beast.

"What's wrong?" he asked, clearly seeing a look of panic on the children's faces. "Is something wrong with Optimus?"

"No, Optimus is fine," Jack reassured.

"Ratchet, Arcee and Bulkhead went to Cybertron with Aulora and they're getting beaten by a pair of Insecticons," Raf urgently explained. A look of completely and utter shock befell the Ater Tigris face.

"What business did they have traveling back to Cybertron? And why bring Aulora?" he asked, his face crunched in confusion, as he turned to the raven-haired teenager before him, assuming he was the only one who was going to give him straight forward answers.

"Aulora discovered another bot inside her mind and they went to investigate and make sure that they weren't a threat. They brought Aulora because she's the only one with the ability to find her," Jack explained further. He watched as a noticeable flash of recognition sparked across Proditor's face, before immediately switching back to its concerned scowl.

"What can I do?" he asked.

"We need you to go help them," Jack replied. The Ater Tigris was taken aback by the proposition.

"You're…you're letting me out?" he asked, his question more directed to the Autobot.

 _"For now,"_  Bumblebee replied, carefully watching the dangerous creature before him. Proditor was able to notice the young Autobot's trigger fingers twitching, ready to transform his blasters in a flash.

"Why, so you can lock me back up in here later?" he growled, frowning at the Team Prime teammates before him.

"Proditor, listen to me. Aulora is in danger. You're her only hope right now," Jack pleaded, stepping mere inches from the cage door, looking the beast directly in the eye. He knew he had caught the beast's attention. Whether it was from sheer guilt, or Proditor had actually grown fond of the girl, the Ater Tigris's fearful face betrayed his hardened emotions at the moment. He cared about her and Jack could tell from his face that the supposedly heartless creature before him appeared to be prepared to break down any walls in order to help Aulora. Proditor locked his golden optics with Jack's hazels and firmly nodded his head.

Jack turned to the Autobot beside them. "Bumblebee, open the doors," he said.

 _"That's it!? We're just going to believe him!?"_ the young scout exclaimed.

"Bee, come on. The others need help," Raf pleaded with his guardian. The young Autobot sighed and typed in the door's access code. Proditor watched cautiously as the bars lowly lifted from the ground, immediately feeling an incredible rush of freedom as he looked at the empty space before him. He slowly stepped out, almost smiling to himself at the change in lighting, from the dark cell to the well-lit wing.

"Hurry," Jack called out, him and the others already sprinting down the hallway. Proditor gave another warm, deep chuckle at his new found freedom and bounded after them.

 

* * *

 

 

She clutched her hands tightly around the warped piece of metal, her hands screaming in protest at the sharp edges that dug at her still burned and sore palms and fingers. She ignored the irritation that had crawled up her exposed knees and thighs from the splashes of dried Energon on the ground beneath her, the Cybertronian life blood sending burning itchiness along her skin. She furiously wiped away the tears that blurred her vision as she quickly stuck her head out from her hiding place, chancing another glance at the ensuing battle.

Arcee screamed and yelled in protest as a large, beastly Insecticon continued to clutch her abdomen harder within its grasp, seemingly unaware of her furious kicking against his chest. Despite Ratchet's admirable attempts to free the front-liner, mercilessly slicing his blades across the beast's back, a hard smack from the Insecticon sent the medic sprawling on the ground, dazed for a few moments before he recollected himself and repeated the process. Bulkhead was in deadlock tie with his sparring partner, the Insecticon and Wrecker dealing each other an equal amount of blows and shots, neither one of them ready to back down.

Aulora began to fear the worst as both Autobots and Insecticons aroused the shadows from their dormant sleep with screams and yells that pierced through the deserted planet.

It wouldn't take long for others to hear the sounds of the fight, and Aulora feared who would respond to the call. With creatures such as these, it was a slim to none chance any other Autobots would be there to help. So that left the possibility that more Insecticons would join the fray. And what were they to do then? Arcee and Ratchet were barely making it through with one shared between the two. What were to happen if each Autobot had to take one, or even two on themselves? Ratchet, sad as it was to admit, would be the first to fall, most likely followed by Arcee, mainly due to her size and then Bulkhead.

Aulora turned back around and clutched her head in her hands, trying to calm her trembling body. What were they going to do? Her question to the universe seemed to be answered as a large blast erupted behind the young girl, sending her into a fit of screaming as she was covered in a blanket of dust. She turned around, terrified, to see a stray shot had completely blown her hiding place to bits.

"AULORA, RUN! GET OUT OF HERE, KID! Bulkhead screamed out to her, his diverted attention earning him a brutal punch to the stomach.

The teenager, quivering with fear and anxiety, slowly rose to her feet, only to fall back hard on her butt as she watched, terrified, as a dark, billowing shadow loomed over her body. She fearfully looked up, screaming in utter horror as her eyes were met with a gleaming red, elongated triangle for optics.

The Autobots' stomach caught in their throats as they listened to their human ally yell with utter horror at the creature hunched over her. They were almost too scared to look, too scared to see their ultimate nightmare confirmed.

Aulora felt her heart shivering madly beneath her chest, as she shut her eyes, knowing there was no use for any type of retaliation. With a Cybertronian at least 30 times the size of her, she would never stand a fighting chance.

Suddenly, her eyes flew open at the echo of a familiar roar, its absolute power radiating across her soul like a tidal wave.

She sat there, her mouth hanging wide as a shadow clinging to the Insecticon suddenly materialized, a dark grey Ater Tigris now hunched strategically upon the creature's shoulder. And before the Insecticon could process what had happened, the Ater Tigris let out another heart-wrenching growl as he lashed a fatal blow to the Insecticon's head, the creature slowly stumbling and then collapsing to the ground.

With one, single graceful leap, Proditor landed on the ground, inches from Aulora. "Get on!" he commanded, quickly lowering his second half to the ground.

Without a moment's hesitation, Aulora clambered upon his back and closed her eyes. What followed was absolutely indescribable.

Aulora began to feel a chilly tingle travel from her head, all the way down her spine and legs and collecting in her toes. She could only gasp as her buzzing nerves continued to bounce hyperactively, until she could've sworn she felt a gust of wind deep within her stomach. She chanced a look at her surroundings, giving only a small wheeze as she looked on with a mix of horror and astonishment at her disappearing hand, small patches of color gathering in the air until it was erased all together. She almost doubled over in fear at the feeling of the dry, arid wind whistling right through her body.

"Hang on, Aulora!" Proditor called out, now merely a voice below her.

With breathtaking speed and agility, Proditor bounded across the small battlefield, leaping from small rooftop to small rooftop, until eventually landing at the peak of a still intact building in less than 10 seconds. Aulora felt a small shudder from the beast below her, watching as the color of his deathly dark metal armor slowly started to return. She turned to her hand to watch, amazed, as its invisibility seemed to slide off like a glove, leaving her hand twisting and turning in raw confusion. Her body slowly slid off of Proditor's back and collected in a numb heap on the ground, as she continued to stare at her body in amazement.

She turned with raw mystification back up at the Ater Tigris.

"Stay here," he commanded, before leaping off the rooftop and out of sight.

She quickly shook off her bewilderment and slowly clamored over to the small wall of the rooftop, peering over at the battle below her.

Proditor suddenly stood before the Insecticon that now had Ratchet and Arcee in its fatal grasp, his legs spread evenly apart, his tail twitching in the air, his head lowered to the ground as he issued another growling battle cry. The Insecticon immediately released its attention from the two Autobots, dropping them to the ground, as it turned to address the challenging beast.

"Proditor. So the rumors are true," the Insecticon called out to him, his voice like nails scratching against brick.

"You're going to have to be a little more specific on which rumor, Swiftlock," Proditor answered, never once altering his stance.

"That you are alive and working with the enemy. I was banking that your little trip to the DJD facility would either change your mind or take care of you, permanently," the Insecticon replied, a large, courageous smirk on his face.

"Why, so that when you returned to Soundwave, you didn't have to tell him you and 10 other bugs failed to apprehend an expensive injured lab rat?"Proditor threw back, smirking at the enraged look that flew over Swiftlock's face.

"When I'm through with you, Tarn'll thank me from the Pit for sending you back to him so he can finish you off!" he angrily exclaimed.

Proditor only continued to smirk. "Say hi to him for me, will you?"

With one last angry roar, the Insecticon transformed and flew at the Ater Tigris, its blaster blazing with energy. With one swift leap, Proditor was soaring over the flying beast. And with one quick swipe, Proditor latched his claws into each Insecticon wing and ripped them from its back. The creature let out an ear-piercing screech as it collapsed to the ground, Energon drooling from its backside. Proditor threw his head around to see the Insecticon that had been dealing with Bulkhead was now advancing on the fallen Arcee, who was just now starting to become alert to the predicament around her. Proditor growled deep within his stomach and pounced on the Insecticon's back, its claws latching brutally onto its armor.

"Leave her alone!" he bellowed, fearlessly slashing away at the Insecticon's back wiring with his razor-like claws. The creature howled in agony, trying desperately to fling the attacker off of its back. But with one last clobber to the back of the head, the Insecticon was on the ground in seconds, unconscious.

He suddenly yelped in surprise as the third Insecticon grabbed Proditor by his tail and held him up, face to face.

"You will pay for leaving the Decepticons!" it bellowed in the Ater Tigris's face.

"And you will pay for staying!" Proditor replied, quickly slicing his claws across the Insecticon's eyes.

The creature roughly dropped the Ater Tigris and clutched his large optic in pain. Quickly spotting Swiftlock lumbering weakly towards them, Proditor roughly grabbed the arm of the Insecticon before him between his teeth, swinging him once around before releasing him, letting him crash into Swiftlock and sending them both crashing to the ground. Swiftlock shifted his glazed over vision to the rooftop above him at the sound of a small gasp, spotting an organic nestled in its shadows. He turned his head weakly toward Proditor, giving him one last smirk.

"You always seem to have a soft spot for the weak. And it always ends up being your demise," he weakly chuckled, with every last ounce of energy he had, Swiftlock transformed his blaster and sent a shot hurtling up towards the rooftop.

"NO!" Proditor yelled.

Aulora turned to retreat, but it was already too late.

The sound of the explosion resonated behind her as she screamed at the crumbling floor beneath her. Her arms reached out around, desperately trying to grab something, but nothing appeared. Suddenly, a flash of green shot across Proditor's vision, and Aulora was no longer there, falling to the ground. He turned to his left, along with Bulkhead, Arcee and Ratchet who had stood poised, blasters ready, as the flash of green landed swiftly onto the ground.

As the dust cleared, Proditor and the Autobots stood and stared at a bright, lime green femme, standing no less than a few feet lower than Arcee. With bright blue optics that matched the color of her headlights on her chest plate, the Cybertronian femme had small splashes of black around her audio receptors and a black line down each arm. Ratchet immediately tensed at the sight of an unconscious Aulora in her hand.

"Release the girl now, and we will let you walk away unscathed," he threatened, glaring at the strange Cybertronian before him. Just as he was deep in thought, questioning the needed stupidity for anyone to want to stay behind, he heard the Ater Tigris in front of him gasp.

"Stella!?" Proditor asked, looking at the femme with utter disbelief. She gave him a small smile.

"Hi Proditor. It's been awhile," she replied.

"Wait, you mean…you're Stella, the one who's been inside Aulora's head?" Arcee asked, slightly lowering her guard.

The femme nodded again. "The very one," she answered.

Ratchet continued to glare dangerously at her. "You told Aulora you were in a medically induced stasis, hooked up to life support," he said.

"I was. But the machine keeping me in an induced stasis was damaged during a facility raid years ago and couldn't shut down. I've been fully healed for a long time, but I've been trapped in stasis," she explained, peering down at the small human in her hands. "Thankfully, Aulora is still somewhat of a novice at mind reading. She was a little brutal when obtaining the facility's location from my mind and thankfully, it was enough to wake me up."

Suddenly, all heads turned toward the sky, all startled at the sight of a large cloud of Insecticons flying through the air, headed straight for their position. At the same time, a loud beep resonated from Ratchet's scanner on his arm armor. He quickly opened the panels and gasped, turning to look back up at Aulora.

"Her mask is cracked, probably from the explosion. We need to get her back to base, now!" he urged.

Arcee continued to stare frantically back up at approaching swarm of Insecticons. "Let's get moving, then, before they find out what we did to the other three," Arcee suggested, her blasters ready and sizzling with energy.

"Stella, lead us to the facility's space bridge," he instructed, rudely snatching Aulora from her grasp.

"Go!" Arcee commanded. "We got your backs covered!" Bulkhead added.

Stella led the way through a maze of fallen and scorched debris, with Proditor and Ratchet right on her tail and Arcee and Bulkhead bringing up the rear, shooting at some of the straggling Insecticons who had made it to the front of the swarm.

Suddenly, a shot escaped from an Insecticon's blaster and caught Proditor right in the leg. The Ater Tigris cried out in pain as he stumbled to the ground, his front leg leaking Energon. As the same Insecticon closed in for the fatal blow, Bulkhead jumped in front of the former Decepticon and shot the Insecticon, causing it to crash into several others behind it. The Wrecker and beast gave each other a firm nod of understanding before Proditor weakly pulled himself back up and bounded after the others, Bulkhead close behind him.

They rounded the corner just as Stella activated the space bridge, nestled amongst a few dilapidated walls of what appeared to be a medical examination room.

"Alright, people, let's move!" Arcee called out, keeping her eyes on the approaching swarm of Cybertronian bugs. Ratchet was the first through, cradling Aulora in his arms. Stella ran through after him, with Bulkhead and Proditor straight on her tail. Arcee sent a few more shots into the swarm before jumping through herself, the bridge closing mere seconds later.

 

* * *

 

 

"Well, I'm here…aren't I? You're not going to send me back to Cybertron, are you?"

Ratchet and Bulkhead gave each other a look of hidden emotion before turning back to the Neutral before them.

"We're not going to send you back, Stella. But you must understand that we can't simply allow you free range of base without, first off, consulting our leader and second verifying your story," Ratchet explained.

"Consult me about what?"

All mouths dropped in unison at the sound of an all too familiar baritone voice.

Everyone turned to see their tired leader slowly blink is eyes, raw with exhaustion, at his surroundings.

"Optimus!"

Ratchet, Bulkhead, Bumblebee and Arcee were quickly at their leader's side, smiling with joy at the sight of their coherent leader.

"We're glad to see you're alright, Optimus," Arcee said.

"As am I, Arcee," Optimus replied, his voice stiff with exhaustion.

His eyes suddenly twisted in questioning.

"Where is Aulora?" he asked.

Ratchet and team actually chuckled. "Ah, old friend, Aulora is finally listening to her doctor," he smiled.

He nodded his head toward the old, ratty couch that had been folded out into a small bed, which stood quietly on the raised section of the base. Laying there, covered in blankets, miscellaneous stuffed animals, and pillows was Aulora, nestled and warmed among the layers of cotton, her head resting on Proditor's warm stomach. With his bandaged and splinted leg hanging over the side of the couch, Proditor slept soundly underneath Aulora, his tail and neck protectively encircling the young girl.

Stella sighed, glancing once more up at the sleeping human before returning her gaze to her hands, almost trembling in fear.

Why did Proditor have to be here? 

She sighed once again.

This was going to be a lot harder than she had originally planned.

He knew too much.


	14. Dancing Around the Subject

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate of A Shooting Star: Tilted Axis  
> Dancing Around the Subject
> 
> Team Prime's limits are pushed as they are met with the Decepticon's greatest force yet in the race for the remaining Iacon Relics, while Optimus Prime struggles with an unknown, yet fatal illness. Will Team Prime be able to keep the world safe while training a handful of new recruits? And will Aulora be able to find out who, exactly, is invading her mind?

"Have you asked her yet!?" he growled, his teeth nearly grinding away shavings of metal when they came into contact with each other. His throat burned with acid as he continued to snarl with pure vengeance at the set of dark blue optics before him.

He could feel cold, bare, human skin beside him, Aulora's trembling fingers trying to placate his stiff and rigid form. He could hear her soothing words from behind him, but the rhythm of his raging heart easily drowned the young cub out, wires upon wires pumping hot, burning Energon to his spinning brain.

He was ready to rip every limb from her body.

He had been sleeping heavily beside Aulora, the pain reducers Ratchet had pumped him full of causing him to slip, hard into a coma like sleep. He had been groggy when he first awoke, his sight blurry and his movements numb. But upon seeing Aulora suddenly gasp awake from her sleep, mumbling about Stella trying to get inside her head, he was on his feet in seconds, charging for the lime green Autobot with every intent to kill. His senses had been immediately charged.

If it had not been for the fairly foolish Wrecker who had intercepted the two recruits, the floor below them would've been stained, permanently, with the faint, blue glow of Energon.

The dark green Autobot still stood between them, arms spread, greatly over-estimating the strength he had to counteract a possible attack from Soundwave's former lab rat. Arcee and Bumblebee were on their feet in seconds, the purple front-liner and Scout immediately training their guns on the Ater Tigris, still urging the young human cub to get away from him. Ratchet was reprimanding off to the side, waving a somewhat threatening wrench at both newbies. Optimus was resting in his private quarters.

"HAVE YOU ASKED HER!?" he bellowed once again to Team Prime, his body bent and poised with anger, standing defensively in front of the young McAllister.

"Proditor, stand down!" Ratchet yelled, his eyes dangerously targeted on the ex-Con, daring him to make one more move.

The Ater Tigris turned back to glare menacingly at Stella, growing angrier at the sight of her absolutely petrified face. Her wide eyes, filled with complete fear, almost made Proditor sick. With the treacheries she had committed, and the fact she had brought them back to life with Aulora, made the Ater Tigris regret every letting her through the space bridge back on Cybertron.

"If you won't tell them, I will!" he roared out to her. Stella's frightened eyes only grew wider.

"Proditor, please," she begged, her eyes silently pleading with Proditor to not open his mouth, to keep whatever buried secrets she had under mounds of dirt.

But he was done dancing around the subject. He was done hiding the truth. He was going to do what he had tried so hard to do years and years ago.

"I assume you're all wondering how Stella can somehow communicate with a language created only for the most powerful of Primes," he started, his eyes threatening Stella to object, to tell the others he was lying.

"Proditor, please!" she begged, her eyes clouding over with coolant.

"That's all thanks to a little device called the Telonian chip that the highly noble ex-Con here accepted from Megatron, who pilfered it from Alpha Trion's dead carcass!" he exclaimed.

The room fell in a horrific, deathly silence as all eyes warily turned to the wide-eyed lime green femme, coolant starting to form in her eyes.

"What?" Ratchet whispered.

"Apparently, when Prima was granted the gift, he wasn't such a natural at it as he led everyone else to believe. He couldn't form a normal mind connection with Alpha Trion and had to resort to a contraption Solus Prime created that would help increase the connection they clearly didn't have," Proditor explained, watching the femme warily for any signs of backlash.

"Why?" Arcee whispered, feeling the urge to vomit from just simply looking at the femme before her. Never before had she heard of something so…wrong. Never in her wildest nightmares had she ever thought possible the Deceptions to resort to something so...barbaric. MECH, sure. They weren't Cybertronian. They just saw machines to be tinkered with. 

But the Cons.

They were one of them. 

"Because Megatron believed that Stella could use the Telonian chip and with Shockwave's help, learn to utilize it and be able to siphon information from Optimus's mind, knowing he no doubt had the Telonian gift being the bearer of Prima's matrix," Proditor harshly explained, hatred drooling from his mouth. Before Stella could open her mouth to explain, she was interrupted by a small voice, one everyone had to strain their audio receptors to hear.

"You lied to me," Aulora said, finally looking up to make eye contact with Stella. "You told me you were a neutral."

"I was. Proditor and I became friends on the Nemesis and came up with a plan to leave the Cons together," she said, trying to speak through her welling tears.

Aulora felt Proditor shift rigidly beneath her palm, his tail flicking back and forth agitatedly.

"That was until I found out what you allowed Megatron to do!"

"Proditor, I had no choice!" she wailed, her face slick with tears. 

She had never wanted anyone to find out. How could Team Prime ever look at her the same after this?

"You always have a choice, Stella! Megatron wanted a volunteer! You didn't need to do anything! The escape plan was all set and ready! You were the one that wanted to stick around a few extra cycles! You wanted the procedure! I bet it thrilled you to know you could sift through the Prime's mind with ease!" Proditor continued to rage. 

"I never used it, Proditor!" she desperately screamed back, voice dipping and warbling violently. 

"Is that so!? Then why were you scared to come out on the battlefield with me and fight with the Autobots?! Huh!? If you didn't think you did anything wrong, than why did you coop yourself up in your stupid underground lab until it was blown to bits!?" he threw back. 

"Because they wouldn't understand!"

He gave a harsh laugh. "Of course! Clearly, they wouldn't understand the motives behind stealing from the tomb of a deceased Prime and sticking one of their anatomical parts into your own brain! I mean who would!?" Proditor spat out sarcastically.

"You don't understand, Proditor!" Stella cried.

"No, I understand perfectly!" he spat out. "You saw the Telonian chip as an opportunity to contact Optimus Prime and convince him to allow us into his ranks, wiped of all charges and crimes. We'd be like any other Autobot soldier! You wanted the easy way out, Stella! Just like always. You wanted your slate to just be miraculously wiped clean of any sin, rather than working for repentance!"

The lime green Autobot simply stood, dumbfounded at her former friend, her eyes too wide with surprise to find the room or strength to produce anymore tears. She couldn't produce any words.

Her brain simply sat there, shaking and stuttering in an effort to simply come to terms with how far she had fallen into this mess. Her only chance at survival, at regaining her sense of purpose again was trashed within mere seconds, all because of a past she tried so hard to rid herself of.

Was she so naive to believe she could ever leave it completely behind her?

 

* * *

 

 

She closed her eyes for a second, relishing in the dry, arid breeze that swept over the empty mountain top and fell back down to the spacious crater below. The beautiful, golden painted sky cast large, sleeping shadows across the amber sand of the desert area, warning the few creatures of the dry landscape that the winter night was fast approaching.

She didn't want to come up to the top alone. It always startled her, the feeling of complete openness at her fingertips. To peer down at the ground thousands of feet below and registering that there was nothing from stopping her of freefalling all the way down was terrifying to say the least. Sure, she was smart enough to stay in the middle of plateau top, but the thought remained.

She was completely open and exposed to the open sky above her, and it scared her to know end. It frightened her even further to know Miko continually came up here with Bulkhead and two sat right on the edge of cliff, letting their legs dangle over it.

She wanted a companion there.

But after Stella's history was revealed, Ratchet had sternly turned to the young human, quickly and firmly scooped her up into his hand and deposited her on the elevator to the roof, demanding that she stay up there until he deemed it safe to come back down.

Safe how, she had wondered.

Was she going to go in a cell like Proditor? Or would the Autobots simply show the traitor the door?

In all honesty, she didn't really care at this point. She just wanted Stella gone.

She didn't even want to think about her.

All she wanted was someone with her at that moment.

But the eerie whistle of the February wind reminded her that she was the only soul out there. Winter vacation meant everyone in Jasper was gone, including her friends. Miko had flown back to Japan just the other night to see her family for the week. Raf and his family were on vacation down in Mexico, visiting relatives and Jack had begrudgingly gone with his mother to a nurse's conference she had to attend in Washington for a few days. Optimus was still resting and the remainder of Team Prime was trying to placate the situation that had aroused between Proditor and the converted convict.

However, as the fingers she had jammed into her pockets suddenly grazed upon an unnaturally smooth surface, her mind flickered with apprehensive thoughts of truly wanting a companion: Prevus.

Though she was desperate for some company, she doubted she would ever become desperate enough to talk to the Zeta Relic guardian. Nova, on the other hand, had had frequent conversation with the young McAllister. She was always sweet, continually asking Aulora how she was doing and reminding her that she was there when assistance may be needed. Aulora had wanted to avoid Prevus all together. After she had first sat down with the two Zeta guardians after their arrival, Aulora was completely thrown off by Prevus's unpleasant and somewhat mean demeanor.

And it agitated her to no end that unlike Nova, Prevus just did not like Aulora. She found it so frustrating that though the two had never met before, the old weapon's specialist was dead-set on hating her.

So she did the only logical thing to do; she avoided him. She kept the small, mystical, little blue orb tucked away in her jacket pocket and never thought twice of bringing it back out. Though the guilt of closing him off so abruptly caused the orb to theoretically burn a whole in her pocket, she found his negativity too malicious for her to handle.

"Are you going to continually keep your sweaty flesh on my little mobile home here, or are you going to finally leave me in peace?"

Aulora almost screamed out in surprise at the sound of another voice, accidentally letting Prevus's Bomb slip out of her pocket and onto the ground, where said Zeta Guardian, within seconds, was hovering above his little "mobile home."

"Sorry, Prevus," Aulora replied.

He huffed a heavy sigh. "Isn't there someone else you could bother?" he asked sarcastically.

"No, I wasn't trying to bother you. I just forgot you were in my pocket," she said, quickly stumbling over her words as she watched the agitation rise in his face.

"Forgot!? Are you responsible at all, Laura!?" he exclaimed.

"Um, it's Aulora," she replied meekly, her words noticeably shaking as she warily watched the stern mech before her.

"Whatever it is, it's a strange name," he scoffed with a simple, unenergetic flick of his wrist.

"And yours isn't?" she asked with a small smile, trying to get the mech before her to smile in some way, fighting the urge to grab him, slip the bomb into the fingers like a baseball and chuck it so far and hard over the edge of the cliff. "Prevus isn't exactly a common name around here."

"I would hope not. My name was frequently heard among the nobility group of architects and engineers, people of high status and intellect," he announced proudly, lecturing the young human as if she was a mere sparkling.

"Really? What made you want to become a Zeta Guardian?" Aulora asked.

"Well, it certainly wasn't for the likes of you! I was promised a warrior of outstanding and impeccable traits, including the gift I represent; curiosity," Prevus explained harshly.

"I guess I don't exactly fit that mold," Aulora quietly replied, trying to laugh a little at the end of her comment, trying desperately to raise her currently mauled spirit. It didn't work.

"You guess!? You have the backbone and spirit of a pool of Energy! That at the very least, is flammable," he exclaimed furiously.

A few moments of palpable silence lapsed between guardian and charge, the empty, howling wind continuing to scratch and screech against the mountain top.

"So then why choose me?" Aulora asked quietly. Prevus turned to look up at her with perplexed eyes.

She roughly swallowed down the lump in her throat. The hole's been already dug. "Nova told me you could override the relic's system's so you could wait and find someone truly worthy of it. So why stick around here…with me?" she asked, looking more down trodden than inquisitive. And out of all of the crazy and unnatural events that had occurred in the past few days, it was the moment following that scared Aulora the most.

Prevus casually crossed his arms over his chest and the corners of his mouth twitched upward; a small smile.

His voice wasn't loud and screeching. He attained a quietness she didn't know he had. "You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear that question," he chuckled.

It was Aulora's turn to cast the confused glare.

"What?"

"That's what I've been wanting and waiting to hear this whole time, Aulora. I didn't want you to go sulking off and avoid me every time I pestered you. I wanted you to ask me why!" he exclaimed passionately.

Aulora's eyebrows twitched further upward in confusion. "I'm still lost," she replied.

"I'm the Guardian of Curiosity! All I want you to do is ask questions. I've been blowing you off to see if you would give into natural temptation and ask what the Pit is wrong with me!" he excitedly exclaimed, his eyes glowing with life.

"But what would being angry and negative all the time accomplish?" she asked, still trying to keep up with the Cybertronian's somewhat sporadic thought process.

"Because it keeps things alive and exciting, and it gets you thinking. If I were just chummy and happy with you all the time, what would that accomplish? Anger and agitation crumble those invisible boundaries around your mind that keep you from venturing out into the land of probability and possibilities. We begin to grow restless and we crave a new sense of adventure. That's why I like to push your buttons, Aulora. Not because I find you annoying, though you can be at some times, but because it helps reignite that astounding flame of curiosity that captured my attention the first time we met," he explained.

"Just now, by aggravating you like that, you were curious as to why my normal disposition is so hard and cold. Things out of the ordinary cause us to question what exactly is possible in this world," he explained.

A small smile crossed her lips. "My curiosity captured your attention?"

He heaved a heavy sigh and threw her a 'Really?' face. "Alright, let's not get ahead of ourselves here," he said, rolling his eyes.

"You know, you could've told me this sooner," she replied.

"Yes, but you never asked," he said, with a small, clever smile on his face.

 

* * *

 

 

He groggily rubbed at his fuzzy head, his thoughts fresh and wandering with sleep. The overhead lights did not help his squinted eyes, desperately trying to rush fresh optic fluid back to their dry, burning nerves. Though he felt rather refreshed from his lengthened nap, inwardly reprimanding himself for leaving his team alone for so long, he could feel his still tired mind begging for more. He slowly made his way down the wing, almost aghast at this secret attempt of prolonging the start to, what he assumed to be, a long day. Though he scolded himself for pulling off something so immature, his lumbering footfall and hunched stance drowned out not only his thoughts but the obnoxious opinions of the Primes deep within the Matrix whose opinions weren't far from his.

As he neared the open doorway to the main center of base, he could slowly detect two distinct voices mingling together.

"I thought you left them in that drawer," a small feminine voice pointed out.

The young Prime neared the corner and peaked out, spotting his young charge sitting with her legs dangling over the lowered medical bay, her jeans rolled up to reveal patches of red, irritated skin around her knees, the young Prime immediately detecting traces of Energon settling lightly atop her skin and no doubt causing her agitation. The former Orion Pax was already deducing the fact the injury came from her escapade to Cybertron, along with Bulkhead, Arcee, Ratchet and Proditor, and once again he found himself experiencing a mix of emotions.

Though he, very begrudgingly, admitted to himself that he would've conducted the same matters as his team did on braving Cybertron for Aulora's safety, he found the prospect of Aulora's predicament itself deeply disconcerting.

He had believed days ago, that it was cruel enough to place the human under enough stress of a Telonian connection with himself. The trials and exhaustion that came with the responsibility on its own was troubling. He had despised the idea of placing one of his human allies under such discomfort and agitation of Cybertronian origin, and would want to do anything in his will to lift that burden off of her shoulders.

Now, to see that her new gift opened her up to possible foreign hostile forces only deepened the chasm of guilt the former archivist had built for himself. Though he knew full well that the Telonian connection between himself and the small, human femme was mostly out of his control and was no doubt set into action by universal forces out of his control as well, he troubled himself with the burden of her pain. Here he was, deemed worthy of the Matrix of Leadership to guide and lead the Autobots, and he could not keep a mere human ally from danger.

Oh, how he had failed.

"As did I, but I can't seem to find them anywhere in here," Ratchet replied, momentarily pausing his loud escapade through his rather loaded and messy drawers to address the young human.

"But its adhesive tape. You guys don't really use that kind of stuff," the young human pointed out.

"Which begs the question if it was really a Bot who took it," Ratchet responded.

She raised her hands in surrender. "Don't look at me," Aulora replied.

"No, my suspicions fall toward Miko," he stated matter-of-factly.

Aulora smiled at the medic. "What do you think she did with them?"

"Who knows! Do we ever receive a solid explanation for her antics?" he grumbled. Aulora couldn't help but stifle an amused giggle.

"I'm going to see if there are any in the asylum's supply closet before I contact June for another case," Ratchet explained, getting up from his crouch. He looked Aulora sternly in the eye.

"If I come back and you're not here, I promise to use the extremely strong cleansing agent on those burns later," he reprimanded, threateningly wagging his finger at the small human, though it only made Aulora's smile bigger.

"You got it, Ratchet," she replied. And with that, he was off in the other direction, heading down the hallway and out of sight.

Optimus saw this the best time as ever to walk into the main base. None of his teammates were there to worry over his currently exhausted state and he had a clean getaway to the ground bridge. He stepped out into the even brighter atmosphere of the main base, and he immediately found himself looking at Aulora. And though his mind was luring toward the ground bridge controls, ready to find something, anything, in Ratchet's scans to deem in need of a patrol sweep, his body was already starting to walks towards his young charge, Aulora looking up, startled to find him.

"Optimus, you're awake," she quietly pointed out, watching her guardian slowly approach her, the Autobot leader still clearly exhausted. "How yah feeling?"

"Well, thank you," he replied, stopping just before her.

She smiled up at him and slowly slid closer to the right edge of the medical bay, lightly tapping the space next to her with her hand and looking expectantly up at the young Prime. He smiled down to her with gratitude and gratefully let his tired and weak body sit down and relax next to her.

_"Orion, you are making a grave mistake!"_

_"She is not worthy of the Telonian connection!"_

_"I order you to stay away from her, Orion!"_

_"Yes, she is nothing but trouble. Trouble, I say!"_

_"She will get into your mind Optimus. She will tear your brain apart, never by nerve!"_

_"She is a disgrace to the lineage of the Primes! She is an enemy of us all!"_

_"Yes! She wields the gift for Prima with impurity! She is a traitor!"_

_"Traitor!"_

The young Prime became enraged.

He, himself, fully condoned the torture the Wisdom of the Primes had put him through due mainly to his own festering guilt he had formed from his rather un-Primely-like actions.

But to hear their voices condemn an ally, a mere human youngling for things he knew well she did not want to be a part of, things out of her domain of control, greatly angered Optimus. It was one thing to rebuke him, but it was another to criticize an innocent friend for a gift he knew, deep down, the other Primes were deeply jealous over.

_"She is a disgrace!"_

_"Orion, you are a fool to condone such treacheries against the lineage of the Primes!"_

_"She is not a Prime! She does not deserve a connection!"_

_"She is not worthy!"_

_"Orion, you must leave her!"_

_"Yes, Orion. You must let her go! She will only hinder your leadership!"_

_"She is blasphemy to us all! You must let her go!"_

_"She must be punished!"_

_"She should not be here!"_

Their voices were loud now, billowing across his head.

They were deeply angry.

He could almost feel the Matrix burning through his chest from the rage that scorched across their minds. Their voices drowned out any of his thoughts, replacing his mind with only their voices. He turned his eyes away from Aulora, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of looking at her. They only grew angrier.

_"Optimus, listen to me."_

The young Prime's eyes furrowed deeply in confusion.

Who was that?

None of the Primes had ever addressed him by his new designation, mostly due to the fact that they believed he was undeserving of the title.

_"Optimus, do not listen to them."_

Now the former archivist was deeply perplexed.

He had never heard that voice before from the Matrix, yet the mech's voice sounded all too familiar.

And it brought a beautiful, warming sensation to the young leader.

Something about the mech's voice reminded the Prime of his former life as an archivist. It reminded himself of the days as a young pupil, a young mech so full of innocent curiosity. It reminded him of a life he missed so desperately.

It reminded him of dreams he held for his future, dreams so far from the idea of fighting in the war. It reminded him of friends, many of them, who held innocent ambitions such as he did. It reminded him of long nights in the Hall, reading away the time. It reminded him of young love, of a soul he had met and had truly adored for all it was worth. It reminded him of a beautiful, young femme, and their fanciful dreams of starting a family in their fine city, on their beautiful planet, the thought of pain, or suffering, of war, far from anyone's mind, especially his own.

It reminded him of love. Of friends. Of family.

It was Alpha Trion.

_"You must not listen to them, Optimus."_

Optimus almost felt a wave of complete relaxation washing through his body.

Alpha Trion.

How long it had been since he had last heard his voice.

Alpha Trion had never wanted to join the Wisdom of the Primes.

He had blatantly told that to the young Prime years into the war, where he was continually fearing an assault on the great city of Iacon. He believed in learning from experience.

He continually reminded Orion and the young Optimus to never become dismayed from losses, for they were a lesson learned, a lesson he believed he would not be able to learn from the Primes entrapped in the Matrix, "guiding" him along the way. To become a part of a series of "very opinionated segments of advice from self-righteous academy kids" was not on the experienced archivist's list of things to accomplish.

But when Alpha Trion had sadly passed the day Iacon fell, a day his mentor had dreamt about for millennia before its occurrence, he begrudgingly joined his fellow brothers and sister in the matrix of Leadership. And his voice became lost in the waves of offensive slander the others continually dished out.

Optimus could always feel his mentor's spark continually fighting against the others, until they completely overpowered him altogether, and he never heard or felt him again.

Until today.

And what a great day it was indeed.

And as Alpha Trion's presence gently grew in his spark, he could feel the voices of the others slowly dying down to almost a whisper, his former mentor's voice radiating with power throughout his audio receptors and spark.

_"Look at her, Optimus,"_ Alpha Trion instructed.

The Prime turned back his charge, giving a gentle smile as he met her confused eyes.

_"Though you are just guardian and charge now, you are to become much more than that. Be to her, Optimus, as I was to you; a mentor, a teacher, a friend and a most importantly, family. She is the young Orion Pax, Optimus. She is the shy youngling with no parents and a destiny to fulfill that she could not even procure in her wildest dreams,"_ his mentor explained.

Optimus watched Aulora closer, as he listened to his mentor's voice.

_"You are just as important in her life as she is in yours. Never leave her, Optimus. With your minds now linked, both of your minds are now dependent on each other. If anything were to happen to the other, the results could be catastrophic."_

_"Be there for her Optimus. Just as you have suffered great tragedy, Optimus Prime, so has she. Be a rock for, as she no doubt will be one for you. Do not listen to the others. Be a friend to her as I once was to you. I wish you the best of luck, my apprentice. And please say hi to Aulora for me. Let her know that we will interact soon enough."_

Optimus shifted his gaze back to Aulora, the returning, thunderous voices of the extremely irritated Primes not enough to ruin the small, humble smile that had appeared on the young leader's face plates.

Maybe it wasn't a new family in the brilliant streets of Iacon with her and a child of their own.

But it was still perfect.

She was his family now.

 

* * *

 

 

She looked begrudgingly at the small group of students around her, as she pulled her burgundy beanie further over her ears and leaned against the rumbling sides of the bus, the warmth of its engine slowly unthawing her frozen limbs.

Her first observation was that most of them were wearing glasses. Though it could've just meant that the laziness and carelessness of winter vacation had finally gotten to them and they left behind the hassle of putting on contacts, Aulora knew better.

She was surrounded by nerds.

Though, in the predicament she was in, she probably could be considered one herself.

Driving for 3 hours in a bus loaded with members of the Clean Air Club, the Environmental Club and two students that were failing biology up to a small forest reserve in Idaho for 10 extra credit points was definitely a good qualifier, especially when she could be at base with the bots for the remainder of winter vacation.

Not like a genius nerd, like Raf. But a goody-goody, always wanting good grades kind of nerd.

"Alright, kids. The first half of the day, you guys get to go exploring on your own. The park reserve has graciously closed off a small section of the park to allow you guys to explore and observe on your own. I want the first 2 pages of the packet I handed out on the bus to be completed before 4 o'clock, which is the time I want all of you back here, at the bus by. What was the time again?" Mr. Richards asked expectantly.

"4 o'clock," the group simultaneously repeated.

"Good. I'll allow you to break off into groups no more than 3 students each, or I'll let you go solo. But I want all cell phones turned on in case…."

The teacher continued to drone on after that, probably about how to use their first aid kit and the techniques of hugging a tree when you're lost, but Aulora zoned out after that.

One thing was for sue; she was doing this solo.

It's not that she didn't like socializing. If any of the other human allies of Team Prime were there, she would've immediately buddied up with them. But she was still the new kid. She had only been at the school for about 2 weeks now, and she hadn't really spent time making friends. Though whether she wanted more friends or not was something she was still trying to figure out.

She was brought from her reverie when the rest of the students started grabbing each others' arms and heading into the thickly-vegetated reserve.

_Whoo_ , she thought sarcastically to herself. _I picked trees over extraterrestrial robots._

She shifted her rugged, red Jansport backpack further up her shoulder with an annoyed huff and continued out towards the dense wall of trees before her, purposely heading out towards the far left edge of the preserve, away from any of the other groups that had immediately chose the less denser route.

She began her scramble over the landscape, nimbly making her way over and under pathways and archways of thickly rooted and tangles trees that seemed to have a mind of their own.

She should probably be taking notes. Maybe about the texture of the leaves or the pattern of moss growth along the edge of the old trees, she didn't really know. She was about to reach back into her backpack and bring out her research packet and a pencil, when her ears suddenly caught a high pitched whine.

She immediately stopped dead in her tracks, straining her ears to pick up the sound.

Sure, it could easily be one of the other students whistling or something, but enough practice in high-intensity situations with the Autobots was enough to put the young human immediately on edge, her muscles tight and rigid with fear and anticipation as her mind supplied the noise as a fairly fast moving object.

She finally caught the noise again, catching the sounds of the high shrill traveling down from the sky. She peered up into the semi-blocked sky, but frowned when she spotted nothing, growing even more perplexed as the sound grew louder, as if it was approaching her.

She craned her neck further back, trying to encompass as much blue sky as she could. Above the high whistle, she was able to pick up the sudden and loud shrieks of the other students, as they less than gracefully, hurriedly hauled out of the woods.

But Aulora was cemented to the ground.

Though every, burning instinct in her body screamed at her to run, the sound growing louder and more painful with each passing second, Aulora was rooted to the ground, her legs unresponsive.

She suddenly whipped her head around at the abrupt snap of millions of branches and leaves, the whistling now unbearably earsplitting. She opened her throat to scream out to the trees in fear, as the seconds seem to pause. A oval-shaped mass much larger than Optimus himself, was hurtling its way towards Aulora, her mind already piecing together the fact that its landing point was merely inches from her feet.

With incredible speed, Aulora crunched her arms and legs together and pushed off from the ground, just as the mysterious, falling object landed with an immense explosion before her, ricocheting her flailing body feet from where she had expected…rather wanted to land. She gave a sharp yelp as her shoulder was the first to drop, connecting hard with a fallen log, followed next by her side, legs and then head.

She waited patiently for her loopy stomach to gain balance and the intense pain in her shoulder to subside before she ever so slowly collected herself up off the ground, sitting up and taking in her surroundings.

She turned beside her, letting out another small scream as she came face to face with a large chunk of medal, embedded deep within the ground merely inches from where she had landed. She cocked her head curiously at a small blotch of red nestled amongst the layers of caked dirt and grime that had collected on the piece of metal.

She tentatively reached out her hand and began to slowly wipe away at the filth, suddenly gasping as she felt her stomach wrench tight with fear and fall limp, not even fully finished with cleaning away the marking.

But she knew it too clearly.

There was no need to finish cleaning away the dirt, but her numb hand did it anyway.

The pointed audio receptors, the sharply-pointed head; it had appeared too often in her nightmares.

It was the Decepticon emblem.

Her heart suddenly ceased beating as she heard the sounds of metal ripping apart, shards grinding against others, the screeching ringing across the dead silent thicket.

Aulora swore against her dangerously intense curiosity as she peered her head out from behind the large shard, her eyes widening in disbelief at the sight before her.

Thick, soupy smoke rose from the dark, eerie painted form of what appeared to be an escape pod. With the main body in the shape of a smooth-pointed almond, in Aulora's opinion, the pod had two small struts that extended at an angle from the top of the pod, the half of which she realized was sitting in the ground right before her.

She slowly stood from the ground, rubbing at her still sore shoulder as her body electrified with paralyzing fear as her eyes met another set of bright, blue optics from her own.

Both human and Cybertronian released an ear piercing shriek, the mech standing to his full height from his crouch behind the shard, activating and training his blasters on the small, foreign life form. Aulora returned the hostile gesture by slipping Nova's Staff out from her pocket and wielding it in front of her.

"What is this, some kind of sorcery!? Where did you take me!?" the mech yelled, his blasters twitching fearful with his every word. His voice sounded young and youthful, his rickety movements clearly those of a novice life. Aulora suddenly spotted a familiar marking on his chest plate and immediately stuffed her weapon back into her pocket and held up her open palms in surrender.

"Hey, hey…it's alright, I'm friendly, see?" Aulora exclaimed, lifting up the neck flap of her jacket collar to reveal the small Autobot symbol sewn in bright red thread.

He eyed it suspiciously."You're an alien! How do I know you're just not tricking me!?" he demanded, his raised blasters now unsteadily shaking.

"I'm a member of Team Prime, lead by Optimus Prime. I mean you no harm, I promise," she replied carefully, knowing the obvious rookie before her would not hesitate to send out a fatal shot.

"Right, and I'm Optimus himself," he threw back, sarcastically, his eyes furrowing together even tighter.

"You sure don't look like him," Aulora responded with a small smile. _Aulora, you idiot!_ she thought. _This guy is ready to blow your head clean off your body, and you think contradicting him is going to help!?_

His eyes suddenly grew wide and his jaw dropped. His arms lowered at his side, and his blasters transformed back to his hands.

"You've seen Optimus Prime?!" he asked, stuttering with disbelief.

_You have got to be kidding me_ , Aulora thought to herself. _This is what was fighting the war back on Cybertron?_

"Um…yeah," she answered.

His jaw dropped even lower.

"No way!? Optimus is my idol. And to be on the same planet as him and his legendary team…awesome!" he exclaimed, pumping an enthusiastic hand into the air.

Aulora turned hesitantly back to the pod. "What were you doing in a Decepticon escape pod?" she asked.

"Escaping a Decepticon loading vessel, duh," he replied, Aulora smirking at the clear resemblance between the new guy and a familiar, spunky Japanese teenager.

Suddenly coming to terms with the fact that she was in the middle of a tourist attraction, having a conversation with a 30 ft alien robot sent the young teenager hurriedly scurrying into her pockets for her cell phone. She flipped it open and was in the process of dialing the base's number when she heard the familiar sounds of a charged, Cybertronian weapon. She hesitantly peered up to see the mech's frightened face peering down at the cell phone in her hand.

"Easy, it's alright. This is my cell phone, ok? It's like a comm link. I'm contacting the Autobots right now to see if they can send us a ground bridge," she explained slowly. The tension in the mech's face seemed to ease, but he still kept his weapons on her. As she waited for an answer, she turned back up the young mech.

"My name's Aulora, by the way."

"Smokescreen," he said.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Smokescreen," she replied. She grumbled as Ratchet's clearly concerned voice rang through the speakers.

_"Aulora! Are you alright!? We just picked up a pod's beacon traveling through Earth's atmosphere and landing right where we were picking up your phone's signal! Are you hurt? What happened?"_

"Ratchet, relax! I'm fine. I don't think anyone saw us but I can't be sure. I'm here with an Autobot who claims to be Smokescreen, though I figured you'd want to investigate this first hand before letting him into base," Aulora explained.

"There's an Autobot there…with you?" he asked in disbelief.

"Look, can we continue our conversation until you get here? I'm afraid the kid's going to get lost."

 


	15. Keys to the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate of A Shooting Star: Tilted Axis  
> Keys to the Future
> 
> Team Prime's limits are pushed as they are met with the Decepticon's greatest force yet in the race for the remaining Iacon Relics, while Optimus Prime struggles with an unknown, yet fatal illness. Will Team Prime be able to keep the world safe while training a handful of new recruits? And will Aulora be able to find out who, exactly, is invading her mind?
> 
> I own NOTHING but Aulora McAllister, Proditor, Stella, Prevus, Nova and Lorelei McAllister.

_"Arcee, catch!"_ Bumblebee exclaimed.

The front liner quickly turned around to find the yellow Scout chucking the relic containment unit in her direction. Her eyes quickly darted across the battlefield, her mind in overdrive as she drew out her plan of attack. Mere milliseconds later she was off, her blasters activating as she charged through the skirmishes around her, expertly dodging blasts that whizzed through the air, only detecting them through her highly-advanced audio receptors.

"Bulk, I need a lift!" she called out to him, running towards the Wrecker at top speed, the green Autobot in a deep entanglement with the equally large Breakdown. Bulkhead whipped around, already figuring out what the small two-wheeler had in mind. He dealt one last hard blow to the light blue Decepticon, stunning the large mech, before Bulkhead whipped around and cupped his hands low to the ground. In seconds, Arcee landed daintily on his fingers.

"Thank you for traveling with Autobot international. Safe travels and hope you join us again!" the green mech playfully exclaimed, whipping back his arms and hurtling the small femme high into the air, who was smirking with amusement as she flew through the sky.

With arms outstretched, she grabbed and clutched the relic container in her arms, as she began freefalling back towards the ground. Once again she was glancing around, weighing her options and theorizing tactics with simple seconds between.

"Get your glove ready, Proditor. Here comes a fast ball," Arcee called out through the comm link.

The Ater Tigris looked up from his deadly latch on Knockout's shoulder tire to spot the midnight blue front liner throwing the relic towards him as she fell for the ground. He kicked out his legs, pushing the red medical officer to the ground before taking off through the rocky terrain, his eyes trained on the relic. Spotting a large, rocky incline off to his side, Proditor quickly changed his direction, swiping his claws across a Vehicons face, altering the Con's blast towards Bumblebee's unguarded back by a mere few feet. The yellow scout turned around at the commotion and gave a grateful two-fingered salute to Proditor.

"No problem, Bee," he called back, the young Autobot already engaged with another squadron of Vehicons.

He ran straight up the incline and with immense power and strength, the Ater Tigris leaped from edge and caught the relic, and sent it hurtling to his left with a small flick of his tail.

"Optimus, sir, you have an inbound package with your name on it," Proditor called out to the Autobot leader through his comm link.

"Proditor, please. There is no need to continue to address me as sir," the young Prime replied.

"Sorry, sir. I mean, no…not sir. Optimus, sir….Uggghh, I'll get it right someday," Proditor replied, smiling as he heard Optimus's baritone chuckle resonate through his audio receptors.

The Autobot Leader quickly transformed his blades back into his blasters and began firing at the ground before the Decepticon Second in Command, Starscream squealing with rage as a cloud of dust formed around him, completely blocking anything from his range of sight. Optimus reached his hand high into the air and caught the relic, clutching it deep to his chest as he charged through the battlefield, trying to make it away from the battlefield before sending the relic back to base.

"Fleeing already, Optimus Prime? You do not fit the stories and tales of a brave and noble Prime I heard so many years ago."

The young Prime halted in his steps and turned to find Skyquake's twin glaring at him.

"Dreadwing, I warn you to stop this foolish crusade. I will make the same offer I made to your brother; join the Autobots and help us bring about true peace for our race," Optimus stated, standing to his full height, still towering over the dark purple Seeker.

"Tell me, Prime. Did you make this offer to my twin before or after he perished!?" he exclaimed, swiping out his swords.

Optimus hesitated, his eyes glancing noticeably down towards the relic in his hands. He couldn't risk engaging himself in combat with the Seeker, knowing it would require his full and undivided attention. He glanced around the battlefield. Arcee and Bumblebee had taken on a large squadron of Vehicons, along with Knockout, who was without much success, trying to lead the small armada of clones. Bulkhead was still deep in brawl with Breakdown and Proditor had taken on Starscream who had finally pulled himself free of the dust cloud.

The Prime was not granted anymore time to contemplate the issue as Dreadwing issued, or rather grunted, his battle cry and charged forward. With the relic pressed tightly against his chest, the young Prime quickly dodged the first swipe of Dreadwing's blades and skidded across the dry dirt to the large Seeker's backside. He quickly transformed his free hand's sword as Dreadwing quickly whipped back around to bring down his bladed on the kneeling Prime, both weapons clashing together with a mighty screech.

Dreadwing watched as the Prime's optics narrowed on his, seemingly focused on something outside of the private battle. Suddenly, the mighty Seeker was thrown back with a strength the Prime had clearly been hiding. Without a further thought, Optimus flung back his arm.

"Smokescreen, catch!" he exclaimed.

"NO!" Dreadwing exclaimed, reaching out for the relic.

But he was too late. Optimus sent the container sailing across the battlefield, watching relieved as the spritely recruit launched himself into the air and firmly caught the relic in his chest before landing on the ground. Dreadwing turned to the young Elite Guard student with fury pouring from his eyes as he sheathed his blade and charged for the novice Autobot.

And though the large Seeker felt rather confident in overtaking the clearly novice soldier, her was thrown back when the young bots eyes changed from their startled expression to that of completely smug victory. He could feel his pedes slowing down as he awaited whatever counter attack the Autobot believe could possibly take him down.

He watched, vaguely, as Smokescreen bent his arm back and released the relic. The Seeker watched it sail through the air before a swirling, green vortex opened its mouth and swallowed the relic, the ground bridge closing firmly behind it. He turned, furious, back to the new Autobot recruit, to find that his blasters were trained on him.

"Game over," Smokescreen arrogantly replied, Dreadwing turning frantically in circles to find all the Autobots had their weapons trained on him, Proditor ruthlessly growling at him, his fellow soldiers and drones simply limp piles littering the ground.

"Check mate, Dreadwing. You lose," Arcee quipped, Bumblebee responding with a satisfied chuckle.

But the Autobots stopped, hesitantly, as the Seeker regained his haughty stance and glanced over-confidently at his opponents.

The large, purple Seeker suddenly whipped out one of his handy explosive remote controls and chuckled. "Always keep your eyes open for the straggling pawn."

The Autobots quickly hit the ground as a series of bombs exploded from all angles, sending sand and rocks flying in every direction. The young Prime squinted through the sand cloud, watching dismayed as Dreadwing and the rest of his supposedly fallen band of Decepticons took to the skies.

"That was *cough* unexpected," Arcee replied sarcastically, grumbling as small pieces of sand and dirt scratched against her protoform, deep within her trachea.

"Well, at least we got the relic," Bulkhead replied, dusting sand off his armor as he slowly stood up from the ground.

"Are you kidding me!? We totally owned that situation! We sent those Cons crawling back to Daddy Megs with their armor up their-"

"We get the point, Smokescreen," Proditor quipped irritably at the young Bot, closing his eyes as he roughly shook his form, listening satisfied to the thousands of grains of sand flying from between his armor's crevices.

"Ratchet, we require a ground bridge," Optimus comm-ed, watching as his teammates continued to bicker over the sand and Smokescreen's rather loud enthusiasm with a ghost of a small smile on his face.

And the almost invisible smile grew a little larger at the familiar tug as his mind strings, a sweet, gentle voice filling the empty void of his spark, as if her words came straight from the Matrix itself.

_**"So now you drop your mind barriers. I take it the mission was successful. No Decepticon captured and tortured you,"**_ Aulora teased playfully.

_**"Successful, indeed. We obtained the relic with little to no injury,"** _ he informed.

_**"Optimus, it's me. You can drop the leader/soldier act. You kicked butt, didn't you?"**_ she asked, his senses flooding with her sneaky smile.

He turned his back to his team, hiding the slowly showing grin that poked at his mouth. " _ **We performed well, yes,"**_ he replied.

_**"I guess that's as rebellious as you get,"**_ she sighed, amused.

" _ **While we're on the topic of rebellion, is there an explanation as to why you're contacting me during class, Aulora. Pre-Calculus, none the less, a class I know firsthand you could be achieving much more in,"**_ he threw back at his charge.

_**"Ouch. That was below-the-belt low. And for your information, we have a sub who looks like she just came from a home,"**_ she replied.

_**"Remember to have respect for your elders, Aulora. Praise her for her bravery to continue to teach the youth of your species, as no doubt some of her equals have resigned from doing,"**_ he explained.

_**"She's been sleeping since class started,"**_ she added matter-of-factly.

_**"Then inform your educational superiors of an anonymous email I shall be sending out soon in regards to their lack of support they have placed behind classroom etiquette,"** _ he replied.

" _ **Anonymous email, huh? You're really sticking it to the man this time, Optimus,"**_ his charge threw back.

Though he knew Aulora's statement was only made with amusement, he became instantly worried. Aulora was not one to supply jokes. The epitome of her display of amusement was her infamous large smile that squeezed her optics closed. Outside of that, Aulora was not known for being funny. And what concerned her guardian even more was the fact that she had actually used sarcasm. He had never heard her voice drop in tone, like that, in cynicism. Though he had heard the humans, and his fellow soldiers speak in mockery tones quite often, to hear it come from Aulora almost scared him.

Something else was at play.

_**"Aulora, is everything alright?"**_ he asked.

There was a hesitant pause before she answered.

_**"Yeah, everything's fine."** _

Her uneasiness caused an involuntary release of her emotions, a minor reflux the two had discovered while experimenting with their mental connection, and Optimus found underneath her primary scorn of anger, was an underlining twinge of betrayal. The stoic leader, who over the past few months had been slowly coming to terms with the corollaries of being a guardian, could suddenly feel a wave of not only apprehension but anger as well, well in his spark at the thought someone would cause Aulora this pain.

" _ **Are you sure, Aulora?"**_ he asked once more.

He listened to a hesitant silence once more. Months ago, he would've been presented with a quick excuse, the thought would be pushed away and Aulora would move on. But now…now he hoped that he could finally become someone she could turn to.

The young Prime waited a few more agonizing seconds before a meek reply flowed through into his head.

_**"I'll tell yah later. You picking me up after school?"** _

The young Prime couldn't help but inwardly smile to himself, instant relief rushing through him.

_**"Yes, I will be there just outside of your gymnasium. And Aulora, please focus back to class. Whether you have a teacher or not, that does not hinder your capability of studying further on the subject at hand,"**_ he instructed.

He could feel the young human mentally roll her eyes, another gesture quite foreign to the young girl. Whatever was bothering was not relinquishing its hold over her mind.

" _ **I will,"** _ she replied, more courteous this time.

And with that, Optimus let his mind settle back into place, letting his eyes focus back at the matter at hand, only to find himself alone with a swirling ground bridge opening before him and a thoroughly aggravated field medic rambling his audio receptors.

"Optimus! I swear, that's all younglings do is get their heads stuck up in the atmosphere! Primus, Optimus I thought you were better than Bumblebee! Well, I'm not going out there to bring him. I'll let Starscream invite him back because that would just be a grand 'ole time for all of us wouldn't it…"

 

* * *

 

 

She let her mind settle back into place as she felt Optimus's connection slowly unwind back into its original position in the back of her head, always waiting patiently for a message. She looked up to find her class still in disarray as her substitute teacher continued to lay in a heap on her desk, her chest slowly rising and falling with peacefulness. She reluctantly looked back down at the magazine in her hands, her fingers trembling as she struggled to grip the plastic pages in her grip.

Her math teacher had always kept a supply of magazines in the classroom, always offering them as reading material for the students when they had completed work and always kept the supply well-stocked and up-to-date. She had grabbed the latest People magazine and settled back into her seat, relishing the thought of having a full 45 minutes to read through the magazine, when she spotted the front cover.

It wasn't new for Aulora to see his photo on magazine covers or newspaper front pages. To her, he was pretty much the real-life Tony Stark, save for the red and yellow suit and the want to help others. He was everywhere.

So, at first glance, she just saw the familiar, pale face and dark brown, shaggy hair, all dressed up in a clean, crisp suit and tie, a pea coat thrown nonchalantly, almost provocatively, over his shoulder. She was ready to flip the page. But her eyes suddenly stung with tears and her stomach knotted in balls as her eyes caught the soft, red text below his picture.

 

 

**Chris McAllister**

**from Business Man to Author**

**Sneak Peak Interview on his new book about being a parent**

**Chris divulges on everything from "the troubles, the accident and more."**

**Never before heard testaments on what really occurred the night of December 24th**

 

__

* * *

 

 

"You have got to be kidding me," Arcee replied, staring almost in disbelief at the object before the team.

_"It's…it's just a key?"_ Bumblebee asked, looking to his teammates to correct his statement. But he was disappointed to find they all had similar emotions painted across their worn-out faces.

"You're telling me we risked our hides for a rusty 'ole key!?" Bulkhead exclaimed.

"Clearly, there's more to it than that, Bulkhead!" Ratchet exclaimed. "Isn't there?"

"That's not just a key," Smokescreen interrupted, observantly crossing his arms across his chassis. Team Prime turned to him to continue, the young rooky becoming a very resourceful informant for all things concerning the relics.

"It's one of a set of 4 keys known in legend to be connected to the Omega Lock," Smokescreen added.

"Which would be…?"

"The Omega Lock was a monument of folk-lore, having believed to possess the means to revitalize Cybertron if it were ever to become inhabitable," Optimus added.

"Sure, but didn't everyone come up with some kind of regeneration story of their own? They're just myths. I mean you just said the Omega Lock was folk lore," Arcee replied.

"They only thought it was a bunch of scrap because no one was ever able to find the Omega Keys," Smokescreen rebutted, waving said relic in his hand.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a klic. You're telling me that if we find all of those keys, we can reawaken Cybertron!?" Arcee asked, flabbergasted.

_"We can go back home?"_ Bumblebee asked, his voice almost a whisper.

Bulkhead shook his head in disbelief. "There's no way it's as easy as that. Is it?"

Team Prime held their breaths as they turned to their stoic leader, as he calmly nodded his head. A warm smile stirred in his spark as he watched with content at the wide smiles and yells of rejoice that spread across his team.

"I can't believe this!" Bulkhead exclaimed, beaming from audio receptor to audio receptor, as he gleefully fist pumped the young Scout next to him.

"After all these years, we're going back home," Arcee rejoiced, unable to hide her rare smile on her face, gleaming with joy.

"Cybertron will be a sight for sore eyes," Ratchet mused, already lost in daydreams of his old world.

But no one had noticed their stoic leader, his expression rather darker than theirs. Though he reveled in the prospect that the Autobot race could rebuild Cybertron to its former image, he knew such a folly held too many difficulties and obstacles to accomplish. His face grew more and more grim as he began to recount to himself the hopelessness in his team's dream.

Foremost, the Decepticons still existed and were still a functioning faction. If the Autobots were actually successful in their endeavor to regenerate Cybertron, a prospect he knew would somehow be disturbed by the Cybertron gladiator and his armada, they would have to face the tyranny of the Decepticons once again. The war would never truly be over and Cybertron would simply become lost in the fray once more.

And because the Decepticon faction was still functioning, Earth and many other surrounding planets would never be completely safe from harm. Their human allies would be at grave risk, and the population of Earth would be a simple stepping stone in Megatron's way.

Though it he, too, relished in the prospect of actually able to return to a beautiful Cybertron, the young Prime knew full well that it was not meant to be. Too many other lives hung in the balance, and unless his former friend was to give up his foolish treacheries, Team Prime was needed on Earth.

Though the Primes within the Matrix scratched rather mercilessly at his spark, calling him a traitor to back away from a chance to revitalize Cybertron, he knew there was an even greater problem that lay in his path.

If Megatron obtained any one of the keys, or caught wind of their importance, he would not hesitate to fly to Cybertron himself and find the regeneration relic.

And Optimus Prime knew that was catastrophic.

If Megatron were to gain complete access to the Omega Lock, and somehow resurrect Cybertron, it would burn beneath the clutches of the Decepticons. Returning Autobots and Neutrals would have no choice but to yield to the new ruler, the new life-bringer of Cybertron; Megatron.

 

* * *

 

 

She tiredly leaned her head against the cool, metal wall, letting out an exasperated breath as she stared at the menace before her.

"You, my friend," she spoke, weakly waving a somewhat threatening wrench at it, "are a glitch and a half."

A series of bursts of smoke hiccupped from the still leaky connecting pipe lines echoed in response, causing the young femme to groan impatiently, letting her head clang against the wall once more. She could feel her armor stutter and pop in response, the heat alone radiating from the Energon fuel lines no doubt ruining her heat-sensitive joints. True, they weren't aching yet. The medic, though a rude and distrustful Bot, made sure to call her out of there just before the dull throbbing would set it, her joints threatening to slip or glide unnaturally out of spot.

She read her internal scanner and groaned once again. 19 more Earth days and she would be home free from her punishment. No more leaking fuel lines. No more over-heating radiators. No more vent scrubbing. No more Energon harvesting.

Though, she wasn't quite sure if the life she was about to join was all that comforting.

In the 2 months she had spent doing maintenance on the base, eating her Energon ration, recharging in her holding cell and then repeating the process, Proditor had not once shown his face. And she was somewhat scared of the large Ater Tigris, knowing it was fatal to be on his bad side.

None of the other Autobot compatriots had decided to visit her, save for the young Scout and his equally young human friend who had stumbled upon her one day. But the Scout had whispered something to his human, quickly scooped him up in his servo and quickly returned from where they came, keeping their mouths shut and trying desperately not to make eye contact with her.

She smiled to herself, musing over the thought that she had left prolonged stasis to relish in a life of solitude, leading the life of an underappreciated clean-up mechanic.

Then that left the young Prime, who was altogether probably the most fascinating mech she had ever encountered. As a Decepticon, she had come to believe he was a ruthless mercenary who fought to uphold the caste system and protect the crude laws installed by the High Council. As a Neutral, she came to believe him as a spineless, foolish, Academy lackey who possessed no more knowledge toward the war he was fighting than the screws in his servos.

Here though, she came to realize that all pre-determined thoughts were dead wrong.

She had been awestruck by the complete, over-joyed faces that befell his team after his awakening the day she arrived at their base. No Decepticon had ever shown such raw appreciation for Megatron no matter how devoted they believed themselves to be. His team was ecstatic to say the least. The young scout almost looked ready to hug the regal leader. That was the first thing she discovered about the Prime; that he was truly adored and loved by his followers.

The second discovery she made was during her first few weeks in punishment, or as the Prime put it "an evaluation of character and true allegiance."

She had spent the first month in the wash-racks, almost entirely deserted by the team after the water reserve below had practically dried up. Her job for the month was to find another, underground reserve and lead the water back up to the pipes and into wash-racks. The medic was keen on giving her the most arduous of tasks first, almost enjoying himself at the sight of her returning to her chambers at night to sleep, covered in water, sand and occasional spots of rust that had begun to form across her body.

She didn't complain.

She knew she deserved it, but it seemed the Prime thought differently. Even during his recovery stages following the coma, he had made sure to visit her at least a few times a week, a few times offering to buff the rust spots out himself.

It was interesting, to say the least, to see him watch her skeptically.

He seemed to precede the point that she had well abandoned the Con cause and was of no threat to them. She found the medic to be more treacherous than the Prime, the Prime she had grown up believing was Unicron incarnate. Sometimes he would just stand by for company, knowing when she was heavily occupied. Other times, he often stayed up late into the hours of the night to consume Energon with her, often updating her on the team's progress and missions. Though he always kept his stoic expression, regarding his visits as simply a professional, mandatory observation, his possessed a deeply caring soul that could sometimes, with the keenest of eyes, could be seen.

His eyes would watch her delicately, such power and aura radiating from them, it was almost frightening. He appeared wise beyond his years, but it was the pure blue color that betrayed his age. Though dazzlingly intense, the pain and despair etched cleanly across them displayed a child's soul still mourning over the war.

That was her second lesson about the Prime; he was as invulnerable as the legendary Primes themselves. But, unlike the 12 original Primes, he was, emotionally and physically, as vulnerable as one of his soldiers. He just had a better way of hiding it.

And her third important observation was found during their small talks in the rec room, drinking smooth Energon. The lesson: Optimus Prime's most prominent, powerful, fatal kryptonite was no one other than his little, human charge.

The young Prime could be in the darkest of moods, whether depressed from a failed mission or down-trodden from his latest encounter with Megatron, and at simply mentioning her name, Optimus's face seem to light up like the streets of Iacon at night. His eyes sparked with an untamed spirit Stella had not seen in a very long time, long before the war.

Every time she sat down with the Prime, she always made it her point to ask about Aulora. Mainly because she did care how the human was faring, though there was a deep-seated tension between them. But to see the young Prime almost forget all the pain raking at his soul at the sound of her name, and to see him go into great, intricate detail about her made Stella's heart warm to the thought that there were special types of love that prevailed against war.

Their friendship was indeed one of them.

And as she sat there, threateningly staring the monster of a machine down, she made a wish, deep within her soul, secret to the outside world, that she too someday, hopefully with her new team, find a friendship as half as good as theirs.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The two speculated in silence, simply the one, rustic overhead light illuminating the room as they stared intently at the wall in front of them, the raven haired teenager poised with one arm across his chest and the elbow of the other sitting firmly in the crook of his elbow, his chin resting in the hand and the petite, caramel haired girl had her hands cupped resolutely on her hips, a pair of glowing, purple eyes resting on her shoulder.

"Personally, I don't see a difference between…" Jack started, picking up the paint swatch booklet from the floor, "non-photo blue and powder blue."

"There's a difference, Jack. One's paler than the other," she replied, blowing a small wisp of hair out from in front of her eyes.

"Yeah but when you're sitting there, in your bed, are you really going to be thinking 'Damn, I should've went with the powder blue. It was a smidge paler than non-photo,'" he threw playfully back at her, earning him a rather firm elbow nudge in the stomach.

"I don't even know if I'm going to do blue," Aulora replied, gesturing to the 20 some-odd other 1 inch by 1 inch blocks of paint samples decorating the stark white wall. "There's so many to choose from."

"What do you think?" she asked, turning to the pair of wide, bright purple optics beside her. Immediately, the small creature zoomed off of its perch on her shoulder immediately over to the colors, the duo giggling as it frantically pointed to a fiery red that was painted off to the side.

"I think Servo's a red fan," nodding over to the giddy Scraplet.

"I hate it. I only picked it up because small fry, here, wouldn't let me leave the store without it. The cashier almost saw him," she mused.

The small Cybertronian creature frowned in irritation at Aulora's new nick name and flew irritably over to her, Jack noticeably, slightly tensing as it drew nearer.

Ever since Ratchet had given Aulora the newly reprogrammed stowaway, everyone at base had been a little on edge. Though the Autobot medic assured everyone that 'Servo' was now harmless and his only purpose was to guard Aulora when she was at home, Ratchet never letting anyone fully know the utter fear he felt when Proditor had held Aulora hostage, it was hard to convince the rest of Team Prime. Everyone was a little more cautious when he came into the room, guns locked and loaded, ready to fire at any split second.

But the young Darby had to admit, so far, Ratchet was dead on. Servo was the ultimate companion.

It went everywhere with Aulora.

It had even snuck into her backpack several times on her way to school, the young Darby remembering that frightening day in English class when Aulora had opened her pack, scouring for an extra pencil.

But it was all out of harmless protectiveness, just as Ratchet had predicted. Servo had been programmed to serve as extra security for Aulora. Not only did it act as the source for Aulora's newly upgraded, military-grade home security system, but it also served as a direct comm. Link to base.

And with the personality of a well-trained, energetic golden retriever puppy, Servo was every computer nerd's dream pet.

Jack watched as Aulora released a pent-up breath, twirling slowly to take in the view of her newly remodeled bedroom, though all that was up were the bright, white walls, tarp-covered floors and the wooden frames of the new bathroom stationed in the corner.

"Just think. You're like the modern-day Harry Potter. Instead of a staircase closet, you got an attic," Jack teased, also taking in her newly remodeled loft, hiding his jealousy beneath his tone.

He had to admit, as decently creepy as it was to sleep in an attic, he couldn't help but feel a little envious at Aulora's redecorating plans, and how well the construction workers were carrying them out.

They had successfully installed AC and heat upstairs, now working on supplying plumbing for the new, bathroom. Just today, alone, they had cut out four windows, two facing the road and the others facing the backyard and installed beautifully pained windows. And the ideas Aulora and her interior decorator had planned out, along with the sheer size of the attic alone, made it every kid's ultimate bedroom.

"And we've got enchanted cars to boot," Aulora played along, Jack smirking in response.

As clueless as the teenage Darby could act sometimes, he was able to read the tangible silence like cold slab of ice, peering over sympathetically at the somewhat crest-fallen girl before him. He knew something was eating at her.

"You now she didn't mean any of those things, right?" he asked, his deep voice quieter than before.

Aulora released a tired sigh, watching absentmindedly as Servo scuttled playfully along the tarp, twisting his limbs as if in dance.

"Of course she did, Jack. Opinions like those aren't just pulled out of thin air. She was thinking about this for a while," she replied softly, turning her back towards the young Darby to look out past the front windows.

Jack came up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Aulora—"

"How could she be jealous of me?" she whispered, relaxing against Jack's firm grip on her shoulder as she thought back to Miko's rant earlier that day. Bulkhead had just pulled in, having picked Miko up from her host parents' house, where she had sat down not only with them but with her parents over the computer about her suffering grades. Mike was fuming, Ratchet even cowering back as the young Japanese punk-rocker went into overdrive, yelling at the top of her lungs. Aulora had been the only one to try and placate Miko's Godzilla reenactment, the foreign exchange student flipping on the poor Jasper native like a switch, completely chewing her out over Aulora's perfect life.

Her words had come straight from pure, unaltered anger, but it seemed Aulora was still taking it to heart. 

"I just don't get it. She wanted my life. She wanted a Prime for a guardian, along with a telepathic connection. She wanted relics that were made for her. She wanted Proditor for a body guard. She wanted Servo for a pet and she loved the idea of having a house all to herself and no one order her around," Aulora said. 

Jack almost broke at the quietness Aulora's voice had taken on. He watched as his friend slowly crumbled before him.

"She thinks my life is the greatest thing in the world. She has no idea what I wouldn't give for hers. What I wouldn't give just to have my family back," she replied.

Before she knew what was happening, Jack had spun her around and held her in a tight embrace, suddenly realizing just how weak and numb her body felt. And with her head pressed tightly against his firm chest, she let a few soft tears escape, hiding them from the word in the folds of his worn out shirt. She left the unbearably heavy burden of a lonely life have a few second reprieve, letting the weight of the world slip from her shoulder, just for a minute, and crash to the floor beneath her.

She didn't sob. She didn't cry or wail.

She simply let a few tears fall from her cheeks, comforted only by the solid body around her that would keep her from collapsing out of sheer exhaustion and the silence he held, knowing that talking was the last thing on her mind.

 

* * *

 

 

_Tap, tap, tap._

The mass of twisted limbs and appendages upon the berth slowly stirred, only to release a small yawn before settling back into recharge.

_Tap, tap, tap_.

Piercing azure eyes broke through the darkness of the room and twitched at the sound of the repeated noise. She let out an exasperated humph before checking her internal timing beacon.

0730.

She leaped from her bed, almost screaming in alarm at the time.

She had over-slept.

She muffled a groan in response to the aggravated creaks her stiff rivets and wiring gave her and quickly stuffed her half empty Energon cubes beneath her bed in a half-hearted attempt to tidy up her un-kept room.

"Come in," she called out.

Light from the outside hallway slowly poured into the room as the bot inside trembled with apprehension.

The medic was going to kill her, even if with his bare hands if need be! She should've been at the Energon supply fuel lines and hour and a half ago, if her human timing calculations were correct, which violated the rules Optimus had installed during her probation.

She was fragged.

But as her still dazed vision focused, a familiar color scheme coming into her line of vision, her heart completely stopped.

She was past fragged.

She was in the Pit. She was already dead.

She quickly composed her body in a stiff stance, her arm sweeping up in a rigid motion to solute the Prime who was now fully visible, her chamber door wide open.

"Prime, sir!" she called out, interestingly noting how the young Prime, himself, seem to sleepily cringe in response to her loud affirmation, causing him to appear so much younger than he already was.

"Good morning, Stella," he greeted, in almost a whisper compared to her previous exclamation. She suddenly felt her cheek plating warm with embarrassment.

"My apologies, sir. I have over slept my recharge restrictions and am late to my probation duties. I fully accept the punishment due to me," she mechanically responded, lowering her arm as she watched the clearly tired Prime as he pressed his lips together in the form of a hidden smile as he waved his hand off to her.

"There is no need for apologies, Stella. I asked Ratchet to allow you to recharge a little longer this morning. And please, I have explained this to Proditor as well, but "Optimus" is just fine. I realize Megatron demanded those of lower rank to address him as such, but you do not have to with me. In all honesty, I rather detested such titles," he explained.

"Of course, Optimus," she responded, once again surprised at just what made the young Prime tick. "If you don't mind me asking, why did you let me sleep in?"

"Ratchet has detected a rather foreign energy signal not far from the equator in northern Africa and I wish for you to accompany me," he explained. "Understand that your previous duties for Ratchet have not been dismissed, but I believe a little "fresh air" as the humans put it would be of benefit to you."

 

* * *

 

 

She heard the muffled squeals and she rolled her eyes in irritation. The delighted squeaks and bits of conversation that floated from the mainly female dominant gym class could only mean one thing; he was in the class.

As a small, secluded town sectioned off between "In the Middle of No Where" and "Barren Wasteland" Jasper rarely saw new kids, because other than her, no one was stupid enough to move there, let alone move back.

So when Jasper High welcomed a tan, broad shouldered young man from the Hamptons, the girls were already feverishly giggling long before they set eyes on him.

So as Aulora hung off to the right wall, tying and retying her gym sneakers, she listened and watched as the girls of the gym class clung excitedly together in a more-than-obvious group, waiting and watching the gym doors for the new student to arrive.

"I heard his parents are extremely rich!"

"I heard he comes from old money."

"No, my mom said his dad works at a tech agency."

"I heard he was a model for Tommy and Abercrombie!"

"Dude, I totally call him for prom!"

Aulora almost smiled with content when the gym leader made her daily, short appearance to the class to announce the beginning of warm ups, before slipping back into her office and hiding her face behind yet another romantic novel for the remainder of class.

Aulora pushed off the ground and followed the still clustered throng of girls in their laps around the gym as she became deep in thought.

She goggled over boys before. She was subscribed to at least 10 different magazine companies, most of which were ordered simply to look at the page-sized photos of Channing Tatum, Chris Hemsworth, Ryan Reynolds, Mark Whalberg, Matt Damon, Chris Evans, Zac Effron, Brad Pitt…and the list goes on and on. She didn't mind discussing make up and clothes, which with a team full of males, both Autobot and human, save for Miko and Arcee, wasn't very often.

She truthfully wouldn't mind a group of girls to just talk about…girl stuff with. She was just that type of teenager. She grew up with a Vogue sense of fashion and a creative touch to everything she did. While away with her uncle, one of her daily routines was browsing the shopping centers, no matter which country she was in.

But she wasn't welcomed in any of the Jasper cliques. For reasons beyond her comprehension, and within it, she wasn't on any body's list of girl pals. She pretended it was alright with her, but deep down inside, Miko and Arcee just weren't cutting it.

She was so deep in thought, the act of running simply performed out of pure instinct, that she didn't notice the hushed tones of the rest of the girls grow excitedly as the large set of glass doors opened to reveal the mystery student. As girls lapped closer to him, their eyes couldn't help but plead for the attractive stranger to join them in running, most of them noticeably puffing out their chests and fiddling with pieces of their hair as they drew nearer. And even when they passed him, they couldn't help but keep their trance on him fixed.

But the sweet giggles and almost moans of approval over the new student immediately fell to hostile comments and deadly glares as he gave small smile upon spotting a lonely jogger and fell into step beside her.

It took Aulora a few seconds to comprehend what was happening.

"Is it always this hot in Jasper? Your April feels like a hot July in New England," he commented.

Aulora was finally, brutally aroused from her deep thoughts as she turned to look at the young man jogging beside her.

Dark, emerald eyes stared back at her, fixed perfectly atop a lean, deeply tan, structured face, topped with dark brown, spiked hair, held up by a broad, strong set of chest and shoulders, his muscles easily detectable beneath his white nike shirt.

Aulora couldn't help but feel her mouth hang loose with bafflement and her cheeks redden.

His smile simply broadened, showing straight rows of beautiful, white teeth.

"Hey, Mark. Come on up here!"

The two looked up to find Sierra waving from the group of girls to the new student.

Aulora could feel her blood boil. Not from the fact that she had heard rumors Sierra was already all over the Hampton habitant beside her, but because of her last encounter with her. Arcee still commented about it to this day, though Jack continued to wave it off as them picking her comment up the wrong way. Arcee would always roll her eyes.

"You don't want to hang out with the Mute One! She's not much of a conversationalist!" Sierra sneered.

Forget boiling. Aulora could've sworn her body was on fire now. Whether from anger or embarrassment, she still couldn't tell. All she knew was that she was praying for a crack in the Earth to open up and swallow her whole.

Waiting for the boy next to her to make a half-hearted remark about calling people names, seconds later joining Sierra with the rest of the girls, Aulora turned her stare back to the ground, waiting for the boy beside her to leave.

He turned to her with a bright, white smile on his face and stretched out his hand.

"The Mute One, huh? Nice to meet yah. I'm the Billionaire Boy, or at least that's one of the titles I've been branded so far," he said.

She had to take a stumbling few seconds to stare dumbfounded at his hand, probably looking like a comatose patient, before she regained her composure and accepted his hand shake.

"A pleasure to meet you, Billionaire Boy," she replied, smiling.

She could hear a few mumbled, but audible, "bitch" "skank" and "whore" from the group of girls in front of her, but none of them were enough to spoil the satisfaction at seeing Sierra's pissed face, before said red-head whipped back to a blonde next to her, glaring at Aulora the entire time.

"Mark Wayne, by the way," a deep voice beside her replied.

"Aulora McAllister," she answered.

"I don't see why they don't use Aulora. It's such a pretty name at that. I know they're unintelligent, but a two-syllable name can't be all that hard," he mused, his smile broadening at Aulora's giggle.

 

* * *

 

 

**Entry #54**

**-no dreams from the Matrix for the past week**

**-not sure what's going on**

**-think Optimus's smartening up to the nightmare and he's trying to block them off**

**-need to talk to him later**

"Alright, Teach. What's next?"

Aulora looked up from the yellow notebook in her lap to the windshield, finding that Smokescreen had made it out of town, without obvious incident, and was now on the highway.

"This is a highway. You won't have to worry about lights or stop signs here. Just remember to drive the speed limit, stay in your lane and pay attention to signs. They'll direct to off ramps and lane changes, depending on where you're going," she replied, looking at the radio as she addressed the young rookie from his driver's seat.

"Where are we going?" he asked, Aulora watching as his steering wheel twitched rhythmically.

"You can take Exit 39. That'll drop us off in Stonington and then we can jump on an on ramp back to Jasper," she explained.

"You got it," he answered.

Aulora smiled as the rookie turned the radio up a little louder, Journey filling the silence of the car, and a very rare one at that.

During the months Aulora had spent, under the instruction of Optimus, teaching Smokescreen the rules of the road and the habits of humans, she came to realize that Smokescreen had a comment…for everything.

Whereas Bumblebee simply enjoyed talking, the young rookie enjoyed talking about everything around him. He always had a comment about the drivers around him, the style of cars along the road, the rather "disgusting" eating habits of Aulora, who occasionally picked up a Knock Out Burger meal from Jack on the way out to driving lessons.

The newbie just wouldn't shut up.

And Aulora loved it.

Being cooped up with bots like Arcee and Optimus, who may never know the true art of complaining, whining or story-telling, made Aulora forget just how much she enjoyed open conversationalists.

It made her forget how much she loved Cliffjumper.

It made her miss him even more.

She never knew what she was drawn to. Their complete openness to anyone, their hilarious lack of concern for anyone's feelings, their incredible abilities at reading people; something enthralled her.

Of course nothing could replace Cliffjumper. No bot, no human, no…nothing could ever fill that spot in her heart that he occupied. He would always be her first best friend.

But Smokescreen…he was nice addition.

A voice suddenly cut ACDC's guitar solo and filled Smokescreen's interior."Autobot Outpost Omega-1 to Smokescreen."

"Hey, Ratch. What's up?" Smokescreen replied.

There was an audible grumble from the senior medic, a muffled complaint before he answered. "Optimus has just returned to base with a relic we require your expertise on," he replied.

"We're on a highway now, Ratchet, so you'll have to wait. We'll get off at the next exit and comm you for a ground bridge," Aulora added.

There was a simple "hmmph" in response before the line was dead.

"Is he always that cheerful?" Smokescreen quipped sarcastically.

"You seem to bring out the best in him," Aulora chuckled, causing the car around her to vibrate with laughter as well.

_I miss you, Cliffjumper._

 

* * *

 

 

All eyes were trained on the object in the middle of the floor, the deathly silence palpable. The violently blue optics and the two pairs of human eyes were wide and horrific, all concentrated on the new relic.

Bulkhead had quickly seated Miko on his shoulder, one hand protectively covering her, the other out-stretched as if to stop whatever harmful projectile it had. Upon Smokescreen's new information, Proditor had immediately and graceful scooped Aulora onto his back and carried her to the stairs, where he now stood protectively before her, front legs crouched and ready for attack, as Servo crouched obediently on her shoulder. Nova and Prevus's relics were situated in Aulora's embrace, their holograms staring worriedly down at the relic no one wanted to go near.

"I had hoped you wouldn't find him," Nova said, finally breaking the unbearable silence.

"Hoped? This harmed and killed hundreds of Cybertronians and you just _hoped_ it wouldn't be found!? Why didn't Alpha Trion lock it up tight somewhere, or even destroy it," Smokescreen exclaimed, whipping around to address the Zeta Guardian.

"We're all given the chance to override the tracker installed in us to communicate with Aulora's beacon. Most of us left the tracker, per Alpha Trion's orders, but Virbrim chose the other route. He was skeptical over Alpha Trion's true ability in foreseeing the future and decided that if there truly was someone worthy enough to wield his relic, then he would find them himself," Nova explained.

Prevus "hmph"-ed. "Those who overrode the tracker had to establish a test of some sort that would be initiated upon anyone's physical touch," the scientist further explained.

Arcee looked up at the Guardian, her gaze for once that night leaving the new relic. "What was the test?"

"Of the Celestial Note? You haven't heard the epic battles of the strongest of mechs arrogantly lining up to try out this new test!? No one knows the test because no one's lived to tell it," Prevus exclaimed.

"One of the flaws of Virbrim's test is that it leaves them in a catatonic state, their CPU's eventually melting down to inexistence," Nova added more solemnly.

Another silence blanketed the base.

"If it has not been made clear yet, no one is to go near this relic. Do I make myself clear?" Optimus commanded, Aulora noticing the slight strain of desperation and fear locked deep within his baritone voice.

Everyone gave a small nod as Ratchet slowly came forward with the container's lid, ready to seal the nightmare back up in Pandora's Box.

Aulora looked back to Bulkhead as he slowly eased Miko back onto the ground. She needed to let her know, to help her understand that it was a waste being jealous over her life like that.

"Hey, Miko, can we—"

She was abruptly stopped when she heard a loud voice, ringing desperately in her ears.

**_"Aulora. Aulora."_ **

"Who's there?" she called out.

"Aulora, what's wrong?" Smokescreen asked, seeming to grab everyone's attention. Ratchet paused, the lid mid-air, skeptically watching the young human.

A look of complete fear confusion swept over her face as the loud voice continued to call out to her, Aulora bewildered by the fact no one else seemed to be hearing it. Optimus watched with fearful eyes, automatically jumping into action and delicately yet efficiently probing into Aulora's mind to see what was the matter.

_**"Aulora. Only you can do it, Aulora. Have faith, Aulora. Only you can do it,"**_ the voice continued.

Everyone's attention suddenly turned to the containment unit on the ground, the unit rattling and shaking with an incredible force.

"Ratchet, what's happening?" Bulkhead exclaimed, everyone fearfully turning to the medic.

"Someone put a lid on that thing!" Arcee exclaimed.

And in one, horrifying motion, happening all in milliseconds, a small, golden object flew upward out from the containment unit and straight into Aulora's hand.

"NO!" Proditor roared.

He leaped from the stairs, straight down to Aulora. But just as he came within feet of her and the relic, a large golden force field expanded from the small contraption in her hands and sent Proditor flying back into the computers and Optimus, Smokescreen, Ratchet, Arcee and Bulkhead crashing into the wall.

"We have to stop that thing!" Smokescreen exclaimed, struggling against the great pressure of the force field, glancing worriedly into the thick atmosphere within it for any signs of the young human.

"Ratchet, is there any way of deactivating the protective shield without harming Aulora!?" Optimus asked.

"It's too late. Once she's made physical touch with the relic, the test will begin. It's up to her now," Smokescreen interjected.

Miko crawled out from Bulkhead's strong hand-cage he had formed around her and anxiously peered through the field.

Aulora stared down at the relic in complete, heart-wrenching horror.

She didn't want to do this.

If she didn't pass the test it would kill her.

She didn't want to die.

But the loud voice continued to reassure her, which she now discovered was coming from the relic.

_**"I have faith in you, Aulora,"**_ it bellowed.

She looked up for reassurance from Optimus, but the golden force field was too thick to see through.

It was up to her now.

She breathed a large gulp of air, and felt her fingers trembling against the relic.

_**"Do not be afraid, Aulora. I am the Zeta Guardian of Harmony. You must sing or play the ultimate song of the heart. That is my test."** _

Aulora almost laughed, if her lungs weren't being constricted with paralytic fear.

That was the test.

The mech harmed thousands of Cybertronians because they couldn't sing!?

What as she going to do?

She couldn't sing.

Her mom might've said she was good, but not that good.

And of all the stupid tests to make, it had to be singing.

No wonder why all of those strong mechs never won. They probably couldn't make a solid note.

Why did it have to be her? Why was it always her? Miko was right. She did seem to get everything.

Aulora sighed.

Well, here's to not dying, she thought.

Aulora slowly opened her mouth and sang.

 

_Dreams, they come_   
_Plans, they change_   
_Yea, we're gonna break_   
_Yea, we're gonna break_   
_Things we face make us who we are_   
_Baby you're a star shining in the dark_   
_Let's go back to the summer, summer when_   
_We dreamed in love, let's go back again_   
_Let's go back again_   
_Yea, back again, my friend_   
_To the summer when..._

Immediately, the force field fell apart into golden sparkles that fell to the ground and disappeared. The Celestial Note, on the other hand, began to glow and sparkle, and in a flash of light, in its place shone a beautiful golden microphone.

_"Does that mean she passed it?"_ Bumblebee asked.

"No, but she's made it to the first step," Smokescreen replied.

Optimus looked back at Aulora, fear strangling his spark.

_I'm holding a picture from seven years back_   
_I smile at the memory, it's smiling right back at me, and I see_   
_Brown hair and bright eyes, such a beautiful blue_   
_A heart full of laughter with nothing to lose_   
_That's how I remember you_

As Aulora continued to the next line, the Celestial Note exploded with large rays of light that lit up the base like a firework. They began to dance around the team, coloring the base in the whole light spectrum.

_You were young, you were free_   
_And you dared to believe_   
_You could be the girl_   
_Who could change the world_   
_Then your life took a turn_   
_And you fell, and it hurt_   
_But you're still that girl_   
_And you're gonna change this world_   
_Woh oh oh oh oh oh_   
_You're still that girl_   
_You're still that girl_   
_Woh oh oh oh oh oh_   
_You're still that girl_   
_You're still that girl_

_Sometimes life don't go the way you planned_   
_And we all have days when we just don't understand_   
_Searching for meaning, it's not always easy_   
_But your story's not over, it's still being told_   
_Your sunrise is coming brighter than gold_   
_Let's go back again_   
_To the summer when_

Aulora's body now began to shine like the sun, covered in the same, glittery light that was dancing from the relic all across the room. And ever so slowly, her feet lifted from the ground as her body began slowly float into the air.

_You were young, you were free_   
_And you dared to believe_   
_You could be the girl_   
_Who could change the world_   
_Then your life took a turn_   
_And you fell, and it hurt_   
_But you're still that girl_   
_And you're gonna change this world_   
_Woah oh oh oh oh oh_   
_You're still that girl_   
_You're still that girl_   
_Woah oh oh oh oh oh_   
_You're still that girl_   
_You're still that girl_

_What if the picture is bigger than you see?_   
_And God has you right where he wants you to be_   
_Just listen to your heart_   
_He's telling you with every beat_   
_You're still that girl_

Light shone from Aulora like a sun, arcing out across every inch of the base. Her hair was blowing everywhere from the power of the light.

_You were young you were free_   
_And you dared to believe_   
_You could be the girl_   
_Who could change the world_   
_Then your life took a turn_   
_Don't you know?_   
_Don't you see?_   
_All you need is to believe_   
_But you're still that girl_   
_And you're gonna change this world_   
_Woh oh oh oh oh oh_   
_You're still that girl_   
_You're still that girl_   
_Woh oh oh oh oh oh_   
_You're still that girl_   
_You're still that girl_

_I see it in your eyes_   
_I see it in your smile_   
_You're still that girl_   
_You're still that girl_

Aulora was lowered down to the ground, as the lights around her began to die down as well. Soon, she was on her feet and the base had been returned to its normal lighting. The team breathed a sigh of relief as Aulora looked up at them with a large smile upon her face. Suddenly, an image appeared in front of Aulora, hovering inches above the relic.

"I am proud of you, Aulora. You are now the wielder of the Celestial Note," replied an image of a transformer.

Aulora smiled back at him. "Thank you for believing in me, Virbrim."


	16. Greener Grass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate of A Shooting Star: And the Walls Came Tumbling Down  
> Greener Grass
> 
> The unveiling of the Regeneration Keys, and the Omega Lock Legend, has brought the Decepticons and Autobots together for a final relic showdown as they struggle for the power to revitalize their dead planet. But one side is doomed to perish in the dust of the victorious, and even with a spy snuggled comfortably within enemy ranks, the Autobots need more than hope to reclaim their home.

"Would it be too much to ask you to, oh I don't know, CLOSE YOUR MOUTH WHILE YOUR PROCESSING YOUR FOOD! Energon is milled quieter than you," the engineer exclaimed.

Aulora's eyebrows twitched in questioning, a large spoonful of sugary cereal halfway to her mouth, as the map maker next to him turned, scoffing.

"And yet we can't ask for a strainer for your offensive mouth!?" she scoffed, crossing her arms across her chassis as the musician to the right of the engineer tiredly covered his digits over his face and weakly shook his head in defeat.

"Do you know how long they stayed up last night arguing like this?" the musician asked, turning to the human before him, who turned to him, full-mouthed, with a small smile on her face.

"Welcome to my life," she replied, roughly swallowing her food down to answer him. 

"And you don't do anything about it?" he asked, almost cringing as the argument continued to ensue between the mech and femme beside him.

"There're two things you gotta know about them. One, Prevus is going to make an argument out of anything. He enjoys pushing peoples' buttons. He lives for it. And two, Stella is a fighter. When she's confronted, the horns are out," the young human explained, pointing her two fingers a top her head for emphasis.

Virbrim gave a warm, gentle smile as he watched the youngling before him return back to her bowl of nourishment. She had been one of the most interesting creatures to watch. Team Prime in itself was a group of natives and aliens that never ceased to excite the newest Zeta Guardian. However, Aulora had become the most fascinating of them all, seeming to be the most grounded and humble of them all, yet possessing a fierce loyalty and spark that could rival that of any mighty Prime.

And then to discover that it was, coincidently, the young Prime that had claimed this particular youngling as his human partner and friend made Aulora the most remarkable spark he had ever met. The Cybertronian society he had grown and prospered in contained mechs and femmes rich with exquisite talents and capabilities, yet that was as far as they got. These mechs and femmes were renowned scholars and artists of their time, yet they were no more captivating than a small crystal flower from Praxus. There was no depth, no substance to these creatures who had called themselves the greatest and the best their species had to offer. Yet it was this small, young alien before him, who had no more confidence to voice her opinions or thoughts than the young Prime had time to recharge, that made him wish it had been this tiny femme who had led Cybertron as a mighty Councilman or Prime.

Cybertron might still be there.

Virbrim turned back to the heated conversation beside his hologram, grumbling when he realized it was nowhere near its conclusion. "….kidding me?! I've heard Predacons recharge quieter than you!" Prevus countered.

"You lug nut! None of us were around to see the Predacons! Unless you truly are that old," she smugly replied, a victorious smile on her face at the sight of Prevus's livid expression.

"Why you little…!"

"You know, being their charge, you do have the ability to request their power down," Virbrim whispered over to the human, angling his hand to cover his mouth from the two Zeta Guardians before him.

The youngling's smile only grew larger, her eyes glimmering with the small glints of shiny marble within her countertop, Jasper's early morning sun slipping through her kitchen window and illuminating the large room.

"My house used to be so empty and quiet. These two alone make it sound like I'm harboring a circus in here. I don't mind it," she replied with a small giggle, Virbrim giving a small chuckle and shaking his head in amusement.

 

 

* * *

 

 

She let out an annoyed sigh, her body slumping and sliding down against his leather seating, her two long bangs dancing from her large breath.

"I swear I am such a space cadet sometimes," she announced to the open cab, lazily crossing her arms across her chest as she examined the large, chipping sign sitting idly on Jasper High's front courtyard, its exchangeable letters proclaiming the late entry for high school students for the day.

"How did I forget Mr. Friar telling us that yesterday!?" she replied.

"It was unprofessional of them to not send out confirmation information regarding such a last minute schedule change," the radio responded, Aulora watching the Autobot symbol on his steering wheel flicker along with the sound of his voice.

She smiled, chuckling at the memory of the night Raf, a couple of months prior to, hacking into her uncle's email account to allow Optimus access to school emails and alerts as well, the Autobot leader politely and stoically angered to find most of them had been immediately moved to his account's trash. Over the course of a few months, Optimus had completely wormed his way into Aulora's life, taking on the responsibility of not only taking her to and from school, but also keeping tabs on her schedule, taking time out of his own when he believed she required a trip to the grocery store or was due for another dentist appointment. He had completely invaded her time, and she couldn't help but adore every second of it. The way he gently reminded her of upcoming tests on their drive to school or his dedicated arrivals at her house to help with the daily events of her life, ranging from routinely stops to the Super Walmart a few towns over to a rather sporadic outing to CVS at 11 o'clock at night for ZzzQuil, Advil PM and Theraflu.

She hated herself sometimes for becoming so hopelessly dependent on him. At first, she had fought it. She tried keeping him as distant from her life as possible. She limited their interaction to simply the car ride to and from school and even then she would divulge her thoughts sparingly. The more he gently pried the harder she pushed him away. She could feel it through their connection that it hurt him when she shut down and shut him out, and it sent an arrow through her heart every time. But she had been so desperate to show him that she never needed anybody, that she hadn't spent 5 years getting over her fears and pains all on her own to ruin it with an alien, that she tried to convince herself that she didn't care what he felt.

That was…until that fateful night.

The night she had a panic attack.

She had had them before.

It wasn't a totally new occurrence for her. She had powered through them before, learning how to keep her breathing steady on her own, usually getting them in bed or on a car ride alone. But that was the thing.

She hadn't had one for almost 4 years.

After the initial shock and trauma of the accident had worn off, the attacks seem to wear out as well. Of course, she had avoided riding cars for as long as she could remember, but aside from that, it felt like her life was falling back into place.

Until one rainy day in March when that had all ended.

To this day, she still didn't know how Bumblebee and Bulkhead's playful duel had triggered an attack. Although it most likely was the familiar sound of screeching metal, fibers grounding beneath a large weight, she had heard that sound almost every minute at base, and yet it had chosen that day to trigger a response.

She remembered walking down the empty hallway, begrudgingly playing hide-and-seek with Servo, absolutely bored to the bone, when the sound echoed from through the wall to her right, causing her to jump straight through her skin.

But the pitch, the tone, the length…the everything of the sound started to play back in her head. But the images of Bumblebee and Bulkhead had been replaced with a black Toyota Rav 4 and the asphalt of the highway. Suddenly, the screams of her family members were pounding mercilessly against her head, tears streaming down her face as her heart began to go into overdrive.

Suddenly, everything in her body had stopped. The invisible smell of fire and gasoline restricted her heart in a torturous grip, the fear of pain clenching her stomach tight. Her mouth fell limply open, as her heart desperately clung for air her lungs weren't willing to take in. She remembered feeling insurmountably light-headed, her entire body collapsing to the cool ground as she trembled rigidly into an indefinite haze, her vision almost completely blurry. She remembered trying to claw at her chest, feeling like something was on it, something was blocking air from getting through. She remembered she had tried screaming but her voice had hidden from her and her burning throat simply begged for something cold.

Her body continued to burn as she laid there helplessly on the ground. Her lungs ached and stung with fury for air while her head seemed to pound with the force of tsunami waves. Just as her mind had gotten heavily sleepy, her vision swirling into one massive color and her eye lids slowing closing shut, a bright splash of blue had entered her vision, the speed it was moving towards her with almost making her stomach fill with vomit. She remembered feeling her body raise from the ground, a gentle, curved form lifting her higher and higher until she felt she was in the sky.

Suddenly, amongst the fitful trembles of chaos her body was fighting through, amongst the painful torture her mind continued to anguish in, amongst her distressed heart, pleading for air, she remembered hearing…no feeling a movement.

It was solid and quick, appearing and leaving almost in the same space of time, almost never truly existing. Yet she felt it again. And again.

It had been Optimus's heartbeat.

Their connection had, only moments before, warned him that Aulora's mind had gone into a panic. Fearing she was in trouble or was hurt, he had placed the three humans, who were simply flipping through television channels, on ground bridge duty as he went to find his charge.

Upon seeing her and immediately assessing and confirming her condition, he had quickly scooped her up in his hands, sat himself against the side wall, and held her body right to his chassis, letting his steady spark beat guide her back into reality.

It had taken a while, longer than he had ever held a panic attack patient before. It was too common amongst the bases he had stayed at on Cybertron during the Great War and he had made it his priority to learn from, coincidently Ratchet back then, to show him how to help someone during the midst of one.

For a while, he didn't say a word, simply letting his spark speak for himself. Even when a half hour had passed, he continued to hold her close, trying to fight back his own tears from spilling out, overwhelmed by not only her pain that he felt through their connection but simply the thought that a youngling was trembling uncontrollably in his grasp by a condition he had never wanted to see a youngling possess.

When he finally felt her body take the most weakest and pitiable of breaths, her throat making a wheezing sound that made the mighty Prime's heart clench in sadness, he began quietly whispering to her. In the quietest of tones, he reassured her that everything was alright, that she was safe and that he wasn't leaving anytime soon. He waited patiently for her breathing to fall back into place, her eyelids slowly latching and unlatching as her brain began to come back to speed with the rest of her body.

Her eyes, after what had felt like to the young Prime to be millennium, slowly began to focus in on the things around her, slowly turning up to find him looking down at her, a small, compassionate smile on his faceplate below merciful optics. And they stayed there, for a little while longer, simply looking into each others' eyes, things within and beyond their comprehension passing between the two without a word said.

Not a word of the incident had been breathed to any of the other teammates, even to a suspecting Ratchet and June, both of which had acutely noticed the young McAllister's bloodshot eyes and somewhat paled face. When asked, Optimus simply noted that she had tripped and bruised her knee while running around the halls, playing with Servo, and the matter was left.

As the morning sun slowly slipped through the corner of Optimus's windshield, a shower of gold cascading over the leader's cab, Aulora mused to herself that it had been that event, that fatal event that had finally opened her eyes to the truth; she was whole-heartedly stuck with Optimus Prime. She was stuck with his stubborn and stoic lack of outward emotions, his almost immovable flat line expression, his critical view of almost everything he came across and his almost annoying sense of duty and responsibility.

But turning back to his now silent dashboard, she smiled at being stuck with a kind, humble, strong, wise, loyal guardian. If he was going to be an ironically emotionless robot, he was going to be her emotionally devoid robot.

"Sometimes I wonder how I made it without you for an assignment planner," she gently replied, her voice as soft as the rays of the sun that continued to trickle in through the driver's window.

The truck beneath rumbled with the hint of a chuckle, Aulora almost melting at his familiar, baritone pitch.

"You do not give yourself enough credit, Aulora. You were fine before me," he replied, the ghost of a laugh behind his voice.

"You have too much faith in me, Optimus Prime. It's gonna get you killed one of these days," she replied with a small giggle.

He comically hummed in response. "I'll have to keep that in mind," he replied, Aulora smiling as she leaned comfortably back in his passenger seat and continued to watch Jasper awaken before her eyes as she waited within the cab of a blue and red trailer truck for her school day to commence.

 

* * *

 

 

"Smokescreen, what were you thinking?!"

The rookie's mouth frowned even deeper, looking almost irritably at the small front-liner beside him, her raging violet eyes mirroring the chaotic swirling of ground bridge colors beside her.

"Hey, I'm sorry alright!" he protested, slumping his shoulders in defeat.

He was never going to hear the end of this.

"Sorry isn't good enough! You almost had us killed because of a rookie mistake!" Arcee exclaimed rigidly bending her arms on her hips as the continued closer to the small dot of color of the base growing larger ahead.

"What happened? Your communication links disabled halfway through the mission," Ratchet asked, turning from his central controls, his voice traveling to the duo as they approached the hangar.

"Smoke, here, thought it was good idea to start shooting in an unstable Energon mine, after I specifically told him not to!" Arcee exclaimed.

The rookie gave an irritated sigh. "In my defense, I wasn't near any Energon when I started shooting at the Cons," Smokescreen protested, Ratchet closing the ground bridge behind the two Autobot soldiers.

_"So, wait, no one brought back some munchies?"_ Bumblebee playfully retorted from his relaxed stance against the raised level of the base, Bulkhead throwing the youngling a dead-panned expression.

Arcee blatantly ignored the young Praxian's comment and turned back to Elite Guard student beside her with an accusing finger.

"Is that all it is with you!? Shooting at Cons!? There's much more to being an Autobot than just battling the Cons!" Arcee reprimanded.

"Ah, come on 'Cee, cut me some slack. We got outta there alive, didn't we?" he asked, plunging in his playful bantering mood, his hands comically in the air.

The highly trained femme felt her whole body blaze over in rage. "Yeah, at the cost of over a mine and a half worth of valuable Energon! Cybertron may have been fully stocked of the stuff, but Energon is few and far between on this rock, if Megatron doesn't already have his slick claws around it!" she exclaimed, the mechs in the room smartly backing down from making any interrupting comments while their resident two-wheeler went into full reprimand-mode with the newbie. Everyone knew that it was the small, almost solitude front-liner that packed the biggest punch, even compared to the medic's great wrath.

When Arcee was mad, no one messed with her.

But also considering the circumstances, everyone was itching to relieve some pressure off their chassis. With everyone so roughly poised on edge over the issue of obtaining all of the keys, the base had been a little…edgy as of late. Though Team Prime kept best to never let this emotionally distraught side catch wind to their human counterparts, once their charges left, it hadn't been all too rare to find one of them in some type of heated argument over an issue neither side could particularly remember. With the pressure of their planet's possible resurrection laying on their shoulders, Team Prime had been slowly stumbling about the base with a fist gripped at their side, dormant and rugged emotions from previous lives on Cybertron suddenly coming to light as they began to fight against the Decepticons once more for the life of their planet.

"Alright, alright! I said I was sorry, didn't I?!" Smokescreen asked.

"Sorry doesn't cut it. We can't afford to be making stupid mistakes right now. With Energon reserves low and relics bouncing around that inflict a lot more damage that a simple punch, your little mistake just cost an injured teammate their life because we won't have the resources to help them!" she exclaimed, her thundering voice echoing throughout the base and silencing any and all activity.

And as her voice's echo slowly died down, the two-wheeler began to feel regretful as she watched the rookie's pained eyes watch her. It hadn't been his fault.

He was still so new to the idea of a military lifestyle. He had gotten no experience on Cybertron, and yet was thrown onto the battlefield on Earth with almost the unspoken expectancy he would quickly rise to their standards and help in the fray. But he was nowhere near close. He needed a teacher. Thrown half-blind into high-stake situations never helped any soldier learn, and it wasn't about to start with their Elite Guard trainee.

But who would teach him? Sure, the humans had him covered on blending in on Earth. But he needed lessons in knowing when to strike offensively and when to go into defensive mode. When and why to strike, along with the tactics of a successful escape route.

"You're a part of a team now, Smokescreen. Everything you do impacts the rest of us. So the next time you want to play pretend hero, you better do it alone, because you're not taking us down with you," Arcee declared, walking away and leaving her final statement settle in the new recruits mind.

 

* * *

 

She stared at the blank, white page on her computer screen again and groaned. 

At this rate, she was never going to finish this report. 

One of her partner's hadn't even bothered to show up. 

The other had left for the library's bathrooms for the fourth time that hour, no doubt alerting the entire online world that she was stuck working on a project with the shy girl from school who now had her picture plastered on almost every magazine cover along with her uncle, because being a multi-billionaire business man wasn't enough.

He had to become a writer. 

And of all the things he could've chosen to write about, apparently the so called journey he's been on being a guardian for his niece has been the most enlightening. 

She had called him a total of 119 times over the past 2 days, making about 30 calls to his secretary, assistant and PR group to relay the message that the billionaire businessman/ newly budded writer would need a Kevlar vest the next time he decided to take a trip through Jasper and grace her with his presence. 

He had promised that she would remain out of the spotlight.

She had made him shake on it after that first night in Rio, when she had naively went down the street of their hotel to a farmer's market and had been overwhelmed with hoards of paparazzi, blinding her with camera flashes and utterly scaring the newly branded orphan into her first panic attack, fleeing to the hotel only to wake up raw and empty the following morning with a picture of her on the front page of the local newspaper, her body trembling in a fetal position on the ground, white camera lights illuminating her hazy eyes and smeared mascara.  

If she continued to have that once a year interview with some morning news station, make that rare but sentimental tweet at just how incredible he was as an uncle, maybe quote Maya Angelou for kicks, that he would keep his 'people' on keeping her out of the media. 

Keeping her untied from Chris McAllister. 

Keeping her name underground and off the radar. 

But silly her. 

He was a businessman. 

Handshakes meant nothing to him. 

He only understood lines for signatures. 

She should've typed out a contract. 

_Fool me once, shame on me_...

"Is everything alright, Aulora?"

The young McAllister startled in her chair, whipping around in her seat. But all she saw was the same empty library, the aisles of books shadows in patches of heavy darkness, the librarian shutting them off as warning that the doors would be locking soon for the night. 

"Down here, Aulora."

She turned down to her feet, seeing the tip of the Celestial Note peaking out from the corner of her unzipped backpack, a green, hovering image floating above it, cornered optics looking back at her. 

"Virbrim, what are you doing!?!" she exclaimed in a hoarse whisper, almost lunging out of her seat at her backpack, hastily closing it up and peering around skeptically for her MIA partner, who she wouldn't doubt to make a cliche appearance now, phone ready to take a photo of her famous lab partner talking to a glowing stick with some kind of Star Wars-esque hologram floating above it.

There was no one. 

"Aulora, I made sure there were no heat signatures within the vicinity. Prevus and Nova have briefed me on the discrepancies of Cybertronian presence on Earth, do not worry," he reassured, Aulora just barely opening the two flaps of her backpack pocket, the inside aglow with a luminescent green of Virbrim's hologram. 

"That doesn't mean you can just pop up whenever you feel like it! You're lucky this library's too old and this town's too poor to install security cameras in here or you'd be answering to Ratchet and Raf who'd have to find a way to scrub the feed," Aulora screeched through a whisper through clenched teeth. 

"I noticed an elevation in your spark rate and I wanted to make sure you were safe. That's all. You simply had me worried, Aulora," he replied. 

She paused. "Wait, my heart rate?! Is that some other creepy thing you guardians can do? Read my pulse?!" 

He pointed at her chest. "No, youngling, the serum vile. It was designed to be created with a vital monitor. For better synchronization between the Zeta Guardians and their handler, we would need to be more aware of you and your surroundings while being holed up in those little trinkets. For your protection," he gently explained, voice tender. 

She subconsciously raised a hand to her chest, feeling the edges of the Autobot symbol poke through the soft cotton and knick at the skin of her fingers.

She let out a twinged gruff. " _Another_ loop Cliffjumper kept me out of," she spat.  

The ancient sentient looked with sympathy upon the young human. The serum vile was continuing to inform the circuitry within the Celestial Note that her heart rate was still slightly elevated, and he knew that the initial shock of his appearance had worn off. What the youngling was stumbling through now, and what she had been struggling with before, was something much more heavily engrained in her mind. 

Nova, being the intelligent and perceptive femme that she was, had deduced that Aulora's rather erratic behavior was due to a reminder of her family's deaths, the 3 Zeta Guardians spending hours scourging through the 'internet' as the young yellow Praxian had called it, just to translate and decipher the words on the paper leaflet Aulora had jammed into her backpack along with them. 

It was such a shame. 

A creature so young to lose something as vital as one's family. 

What had his niece always told him back on Cybertron, when his sister would be so sullen, so heavy with grief of her spark mate's untimely passing?

_Distract her, Virbrim. It always works with me. I talk to her about data pads, and the Iacon lights and Energon cream and she's happy again._

But what would he say?

He had known his sister, like the back of his digits. 

But he didn't know how to deal with a child. He had had no sparklings of his own. 

"I didn't know it would kill them."

Aulora, haven completely forgotten the Cybertronian musician was still there, turned startled to him. 

"What?" she asked, deeply perplexed. 

"The Cybetronians who tried to access the Celestial Note. I didn't know it would claim their sparks," he explained somberly, completely dumbfounded at the words that were pouring from his mouth. "Alpha Trion was a very prominent figure of the High Council during our time. Many saw him as the true leader of Cybertron. This of course, was some time before Orion Pax stumbled upon the Matrix and became the latest and last Prime. I admired and respected Alpha Trion, don't get me wrong. We were close colleagues. I'd even go so far as to say we were friends. But these...visions he claimed to have, that every breathing Cybertronian seemed to take as the law of the land...well I didn't believe them. Not Alpha Trion. I believe he had precognition abilities. I had seen him fall deep into one first-hand. But I stood firmly against them. It just seemed like a bunch of rubbish to me. Though I was far from anything remotely close to a mech of scientific knowledge, I firmly believed in cause and effect, in that every action had an equal and opposite reaction. The poor choices and the sound decisions we made, the paths we chose to take, would shape our future. Plain and simple. Not all of these mystical properties and such. And so when Alpha Trion came to me with 'knowledge' of an alien race in the future entangling with our own, of one who would play a great part in the Great War, I believed he had officially lost it. It was preposterous, the things he was claiming would come to fruition. So I accepted his offer of the R-Cog and the Celestial Note, but I refused to be programmed for some alien creature he saw in his dreams. The knowledge I possessed and the power the Celestial Note, I believed, belonged in deserving hands. And so I overrode the Note's programming and I created and interfacing feature that allowed anyone the possibility of wielding it. It just seemed more practical! Here, Alpha Trion was preparing to arm a youngling in the future when the Great War was encroaching further and further onto our planet with every hate-filled word Megatronous spewed from his mouth. Why leave such a great weapon to some being in his dreams when it was our people that needed it then. I just had no idea of the consequences."

"As I said before, I am not a mech of science. I hadn't the slightest of what my new interfacing could do. I simply thought that when I dejected a possible wielder, they would just leave the Celestial Note and get one with their lives. I had no idea of what it was doing with their CPU's, not until Prevus and Nova filled me in the other day. Then, ironically enough, the path I was trying so desperately to avoid, the very youngling Alpha Trion spoke to me of, ended up wielding it anyway. I know why I did to those innocent sparks was unintentional. But I still blame myself for their cruel fates," he explained, turning up to the youngling with a small smile. 

He hadn't the slightest where that had come from, why he had suddenly felt the need to explain the deep thoughts he had been sitting upon for days. She didn't need to know that kind of information. 

But when he looked up at the small human, the heavy weight that had settled behind her eye, the way the circle of pure blue softened around the edges, hinted to the Zeta Guardian that the youngling had needed to hear that story just as much as he needed to release it from his chasis. 

 

* * *

 

"Guys!"

The medic, the two-wheeler, the Wrecker, the Scout and their charges turned to the young Japanese teenager as she came rushing through the ground bridge, a roll of paper grasped tight within her hand. She ran with great gusto up the steps to the higher level, where Jack was occupying the arm chair, a math textbook in his lap, and Raf was stretched out on the sofa, his laptop rested against his knees.

She jumped over the last few remaining steps, and skidded to a stop before her two human friends, the Autobots gathering around at the commotion as well.

"Did you know about this!?" she exclaimed, thrusting the magazine out flat between her two hands for the others to see. Raf fiddled with his glasses as he squinted at the magazine in her hands while Jack quickly scanned over the page's title and let his eyes mist over in an unreadable emotion.

"What does it say?" Raf asked.

"It's an interview with Aulora'a uncle, who answered questions about a car accident Aulora was in! It says here that it killed her mom, dad and aunt!" she exclaimed at the top of her lungs, her large hazel eyes pooling with a small traces of tears, as she looked between her teammates with raw uncertainty.

Bulkhead, Bumblebee and Arcee reeled back at the news, their eyes wide with fear as they desperately looked to each other for some type of reassurance that this was all just a misunderstanding.

_"That's impossible! They're living in Virginia!"_ Bumblebee scoffed.

"Yeah. Aulora made a deal with her parents to finish up high school in Jasper with her uncle," Raf replied, but his wavering voice and slowly flooding eyes warned of his doubt, as his eyes stared perplexed at the magazine cover.

The young 12 year old turned to the senior medic for reassurance, turning back to his raven-haired friend when he wasn't comforted by Ratchet's anguished face, only to find Jack's bearing a similar weight of utter grief.

The two-wheeler watched with a sick stomach as her partner's face grew grave and dark. Arcee placed her hands over her mouth as her balance swayed with uneasiness, her now useless throat letting a silent scream echo across her throat.

_Lorelei._

She had been Cliffjumper's first and only human charge.

Cliffjumper had been living his last years under the assumption that Lorelei had simply relocated, figuring Optimus had suggested the move with the possibility of Lorelei, Aulora and her family being tied to the Autobots, that he would be seeing her soon again.

_How could she be dead?_

It just…didn't seem possible.

Bulkhead let a low, saddened grumble escape his mouth as he placed a firm hand to his head, shaking it with the apparent impossibility of the situation, the young scout's eyes drooping pitifully.

Miko ran a shaky hand over her paled face, her sweaty palms carrying away the small droplets of water that had slowly began to pool from her eyes.

_How could she have been so stupid?_

She had not mere days before went on the biggest, complaining spree in front of Aulora, rudely whining about how Aulora's life was so much "cooler" than her own. The idea she had no one to answer to. The idea that she was in possession of her uncle's overflowing wealth. The idea that she seemed more acclimated to Team Prime than any of the other humans, and that she had Optimus for a protector.

Granted, she would never give up Bulkhead, but she couldn't help but feel almost annoyed at how brilliantly kick-ass Aulora's life seemed to be; the life Miko herself believed she needed. Someone as quiet, shy and obedient as Aulora didn't deserve a life like that. Someone who had a "wicked sense of imagination" as Miko had so eloquently put it, needed a life like that. Someone who would enjoy the resources she had at her finger tips.

She felt sick now, remembering how lightly she had ignored Aulora's almost dark and grim expression she held after Miko had gone through her pathetic little tirade. "The grass is always greener on the other side," Aulora had mentioned. Though the young Japanese teenager simply scoffed at it as did she to most of the other quotes and quips Aulora seemed to pull out of nowhere, she realized now the young McAllister couldn't have been more right.

The medic and eldest human turned with weary eyes to each other, a strong wave of grief passing between the two, both burdened with the responsibility of passing it on to their friends.

"I was at their funeral," Jack replied, his voice barely a hoarse whisper. "I didn't know if you guys knew but...I figured it was hers to tell."

"Optimus had the intention of waiting until the time was right to inform you about this," Ratchet started, his voice heavy with a burdened grief.

The Wrecker whipped around to face the medic. "What do you mean he waited? He knew this whole time!?" Bulkhead exclaimed.

The two-wheeler's eyes filled with white rage. "How did he not think this was our business to know!?" Arcee exclaimed.

_"Why didn't Optimus want to tell us?"_ Bumblebee asked, turning back to the medic.

"Inform you about what?"

The team turned quickly to the entrance of the base, the large Prime transforming and cautiously watch his team's rather saddened demeanor grow slowly darker as their eyes settled on him.

"Why didn't you ever inform us about the McAllisters' accident?" Arcee asked, her voice dark and heavy.

 

* * *

 

 

_Breyers_ or _Turkey Hill._

The ultimatum.

The end-all or be-all struggle of the day.

Forget the idea she had just spent the afternoon helping Ratchet recalibrate sensitive ground bridge wiring, a machine that could literally teleport any object or being to any continent, and location across the world, that could of blown her sky high with no more little than a small peck from her pliers. Forget the idea she had only a day ago spent the evening on a cliff with Smokescreen, a 60 foot, armed and highly skilled alien robot, sifting through passing cars for a vehicle mode, one he would then scan with his eyes and transform into. Forget the idea that she had just sat down with an interior designer, one who had had her fair share of clients, from Oprah to Celine Dion, to discuss decorating plans for her house. Forget the idea she had just scored front row, able-to-reach-out-and-touch-the-stage seats and VIP after-party tickets to Ariana Grande's sold out tour with the help of her all-mighty uncle and his connections.

Forget the idea she had just telepathically told her tall, transforming guardian that she would be out of the grocery store in roughly ten minutes, that her shadow-shifting Cybertronian tiger was waiting out back for her.

The greatest struggle she would face that day would be whether her evening would be spent Netflix-ing with a box of Turkey Hill Cookie Dough or Breyers Cookies n' Cream.

Leave it to Daugherty's Super Market to bring a highly capable, alien ambassador, Prime partner, world traveler down to size with the humbling experience of choosing an ice cream flavor.

"You know, I heard the longer you stare at it, the yummier it tastes."

Aulora quickly turned to her left at the sound of a deep, husky voice, to find a familiar tan face leaning over her shoulder to peer at the ice cream freezer as well, her nose becoming intoxicated on his crisp, subtle cologne.

"Is that so?" Aulora asked with a small giggle, watching as the tall brunette extended to his full 5'11'' height to peer down at her with a playful, rugged smirk.

"Well, at least that's what my sister's Discovery Girl magazine said," he said shrugging, Aulora watching as his muscled shoulders eased beneath his relaxed white t-shirt.

"So you like tween girl magazines?" she chuckled, turning back to the ice creams before the attractive teenager beside her figured out she was starting to madly blush.

"Sure. Between Mark Twain's old English and Lee Child's kick-ass story lines, you need a little down time with some crushable 5 Seconds of Summer posters and helpful do's and don'ts to getting your crush's attention," he casually responded. He leaned lackadaisically against the cool fridge door, turning back to the small girl with a playful smirk and Aulora couldn't help but feel her heart quicken to a lively, twittering pattern as her cheeks noticeably heated.

"So what will it be? Crushed sprinkles of Oreo or raw cookie dough balls?" he asked smartly, slowly getting lost in the girl's pale blue eyes, wishing he could reach out and brush her large, side bangs away, so the whole world could see the beauty she so expertly hid.

"Well, when you say it like that, I might just end up buying some frozen yogurt," she responded with a small smile, her heart pounding forth from her chest as his eyes brightened and he let out a deep, warming chuckle.

"See, now there's an idea," he announced, pointing resolutely at her, "a little bit of flavored, live bacteria will definitely kick off your night."

"What do you want, Mark?" she asked, her cheeks matching her tomatoes in her basket as the tall sophomore casually wrapped his arm around her shoulder and leveled his eyes with hers, the caged butterflies in her stomach suddenly gaining freedom.

"Honestly, I'm bored. Mom's still in the spices aisle trying to decide between 3 different flavors for chicken tonight, all of which I cannot and will not pronounce," he said, comically sagging his shoulders, desperately wanting to keep his arm around her and her face inches from his but respectively pulled it away along with his face.

But not too far.

"But also to ask you something. My grandparents are having a 50th wedding anniversary party this weekend at a yacht club over in San Francisco and I was wondering if you'd like to be my plus one. Nothing fancy or anything, I just need a buddy as I'm pulled brutally through an afternoon of Daddy Dearest stuffing people's asses with sugar-coated stories about his incredible company and Mother's pride-filled talks of her ever successful children," he replied.

Aulora struggled hard to suppress her ever persistent, foolishly charmed giggles as she watched a mother quickly grab her kids and rush over to another aisle, glaring at the new student for his colorful language outburst.

"Successful children? Clearly she hasn't seen your latest math test grade," she smarted, almost cringing as she heard the weak, wobbliness in her voice.

"Great Gatsby, I think I just witnessed Aulora McAllister actually use sarcasm!" he mockingly exclaimed, placing a hand to his chest, Aulora noting the solid impact it made with his evenly toned pecs.

_Keep it together, Aulora_ , she desperately thought to herself.

"Did you just say Great Gatsby?" she asked.

"Oh come on! Like you haven't dropped any dated quips," he responded, almost melting at the immaculate smile that continued to adorn her face.

"Nothing from Fitzgerald, no," she replied.

The two continued to simply watch each other, giddy smiles plastered on both their faces, until Mark finally broke the comfortable silence.

"So, jokes aside. Can you please be my plus one? The ever egotistical Billionaire Boy is in dire need of his ever trusty, humble partner, the Mute One," he replied, comically getting down on one knee before her, chuckling as Aulora fought hard to control her sudden urge to fiercely giggle.

"Well, when you put it like that…" she replied, rolling her eyes in mocking thought.

"Free food?" she asked.

"Only the best."

"Then I'm in," she replied.

"Ugh, thank you! I'll give yah the info on Monday in Chem. You're the best!" he exclaimed, clasping his hands on her shoulder, his eyes locked on hers with immense gratitude before he took off back down the aisle, waving good bye, leaving the poor, fumbling girl awkwardly waving farewell in return, her heart a stuttering mess on the clean tile beneath her.

The rest of her time at the super market, for Aulora, was a complete blur. Had she picked up the detergent? What about the peanut butter? She was surprised she actually had a clear enough mind to pay the cashier at the end. It was all a hazy blur, her heart sputtering out of control as her cheeks continued to flush from aisle to aisle. Her feet felt as if they were walking off the ground, catching a drift and floating off. Her mind was in ecstasy, a numb smile plastered haphazardly on her face, her eyes glinting with passion.

The Ater Tigris couldn't help but chuckle at the state his human friend was in as she exited the grocery store, watching with humor as she almost walked straight into a plant booth, stumbling over small heaves in the sidewalk until making her way behind the dumpsters, where he stood patiently waiting for her.

He watched, amused as she silently climbed onto his lowered back, grocery bags nearly slipping from her fumbling fingers, a giddy smile still spread wide across her face.

"You look like you've been sneaking hard high grade from Wheeljack's secret stash," he lightly commented. "What happened?"

The small, human cub could only smile more, letting out a content sigh.

"I'm his plus one."

 

* * *

 

 

Had he made the right decision? The previous situation had deemed in need of it. But now…he did not feel as convinced. Who was he to hold back information such as that, as sensitive as that? The decision should've been left to Aulora to make. But her almost eager compliance to his idea of keeping her family's deaths away from the others, begged the young Prime to believe that even if it had been left up to the discrepancy of the young McAllister, the information wouldn't have been readily divulged as well.

But he needed to be the bearer of the information. As much as he currently belittled himself for thinking an obstacle like this couldn't be dealt with at a requested time, his team was not ready to hear news of that caliber at the time. They were all new to Earth, and the first few months had been raw to deal with as his team fretted over Cliffjumper's life in the hands of an alien species. Cybertron was declared uninhabitable and Earth, at first, seemed almost an insult to their former planet. Pristine, glorious metal roadways had been replaced with uneven, rubbery tar that burned their tires during the hot summers. Glorious, shimmering buildings had become small particles of dirt that seemed to disgust everyone. Metal was scarce on the planet, most of it composed of organic, meshy material that annoyed everyone.

No one had liked Earth.

But the McAllisters's had changed that. Lorelei became an undying source for his team. Upon first meeting her through wireless communication during the months Cliffjumper had spent in recovery at her residency after his brutal crash landing on Earth, the Prime could easily see she would be an able and helpful ally for his team. While continually updating him with Cliffjumper's progress, Lorelei had slowly begun to relay to Optimus the 'tricks and trades' as she had put it, to living on Earth, his first lesson being that their Cybertronian vehicle modes would raise too much suspicion for a team that was trying to work under the radar. By the time Cliffjumper was well enough to travel back to base, Ratchet at that time still mid-construction of the ground bridge, Lorelei and the red Autobot had become very close, and Cliffjumper had wormed it into his daily routine to visit Lorelei or even bring her to base. When he was sectioned to a different continent, it was to be expected he was communicating with her wirelessly. Arcee had even made the joke that Lorelei had stolen her partner.

And then there was Aulora.

When it had come to Optimus's attention that during his stay at Lorelei McAllister's residence, her young, 9 year old niece had stumbled upon Cliffjumper, the Prime invited the youngling to visit the base.

Her first of numerous visits had been nothing short of marvelously humbling. It had taken Team Prime a very extended period of time to come to grip with the alien species that had now intermingled with their lives. It was awkward, in the smallest of terms, for both parties. Though Lorelei and Cliffjumper got along swimmingly, Arcee sometime later adjusting to her as well, the rest of the Autobots kept their distance.

But it had been the small little Aulora, eyes big and smile wide, that had wormed its way into every one of their sparks.

The young Prime even remembered himself, down-trodden at the time of heavy losses from all corners of his life, slowly picking up the small human in his hands and smiling to himself, his heavy heart almost to the brink of tears. It had felt like all of his worries, all of his pains had washed away at the sight of such a young, fragile soul, with a smile so divine-like and eyes so full of vivacity.

And to have the gift of seeing her every day, that beautiful spirit and life still pouring unrelentingly from her, was in itself one of the greatest gifts he had ever received.

The young Prime turned to his left, disturbed from his deep thoughts by a great rushing of wind, its great gusts familiar to the ones nestled beneath the wings of an aircraft. He watched as a dark purple mass slowly transformed, its hefty weight shaking the ground as they made a distinguished landing.

The transformer formally bowed its head to the Prime. "Optimus," they greeted.

The Prime returned a similar, less-pronounced gesture. "It's been some time, Dreadwing," he replied.

"I apologize, Optimus. Ever since Proditor's return, security aboard the Nemesis has been anything but relenting. Megatron fears that a living Decepticon rebel will stir defiance amongst his armada," the Seeker informed, passing Optimus to the edge of the high cliff, looking out at the wondrous, arid expanse before him, the golden sun just touching down with the land below it.

"Were you followed?" Optimus asked.

Skyquake shook his head. "No. As of now, I am simply taking a much needed fly and my energy signature is currently soaring at 350 clicks per hour across the Atlantic Ocean," he informed, turning back to the Prime.

"What intel have you gained since your last debriefing?" the Prime asked.

The Seeker shook his head in a heavy emotion the Autobot leader could not read. "Megatron, I fear, is preparing for a cataclysmic event that has the entire ship shrouded in doubt. No one knows what's happening, but he has Soundwave permanently locked onto a computer and it seems as if he as almost completely lost interest in the Iacon Relics," he replied gravely, looking at his leader straight in the eye.

"I fear deeply of what has such a hold on his concentration that it distracts it from obtaining the Relics, a project not weeks ago he had been completely devoted to," Dreadwing continued.

"What of the Regeneration Keys?" Optimus pushed further.

"As of now, you have one, as do we. According to legend, there still remains 2 more, where ever they are. That though, Megatron has not given up on. He has created squadrons of Vehicons and Seekers for immediate response to any possible energy signatures matching those of the keys," Skyquake continued.

"So then we are to believe that Megatron is convinced of the legend behind the keys and what they're capable of accomplishing," Optimus pondered aloud.

There was a small upward shrug of the Seeker's shoulder. "He needs them for something," Dreadwing replied.

The Prime let out a heavy sigh, clasping his hands habitually behind his back whenever he was deep in thought, his shoulders noticeably sagging.

"Do you have anything else to report, Dreadwing?" Optimus asked.

"Only that Megatron is in possession of two relics, Optimus, that can only be operated by a Prime; the Forge of Solus Prime and the Star Saber. They were accidentally unearthed during a Energon excavation. He fears of their power once they fall into your hands," he replied.

Optimus's eyes subtly piqued with interest at the mention of both titles, hearing numerous stories of legendary tales regarding the immensity of their power.

"They would have the capacity to greatly change the tide of this war in the Autobots' favor," Optimus commented aloud.

"Indeed. Which is precisely why I plan on confiscating them."

Optimus turned baffled to the long time Autobot spy, but his pending lecture was silenced by Dreadwing's outstretched hand.

"Forgive me, Optimus, but I must relinquish these items from Megatron. I don't know how to explain it, but whatever Megatron is planning of this moment, I fear it is the greatest obstacle we, Autobots, have faced since the Great War," he replied.

The Autobot leader closed his mouth and listened to his loyal spy.

"Megatron would not commit so many resources and opportunities if he was not completely convinced that this objective would not carry out the intention he's had ever since he stormed the High Council's Chambers; complete eradication of opposition. You must prepare, Optimus, to encounter the end," he darkly proclaimed.

"I see," the Prime responded. "Are you acquainted with the protocols if a final time, as you have just mentioned, befalls the Autobots?"

"Indeed, Optimus," the Prime able to pick up at the small traces of subtle fear that had befallen his soldier's face.

"For now, Optimus, simply be prepared for any incoming comm. messages from myself. Soundwave is too preoccupied to sift through soldier comm. links. Keep your goal set on obtaining those keys, for I believe they play a great part in Megatron's plan. I, for now, will see what I can do about the Forge and the Saber," he replied. A small smile crossed his faceplates.

"How is the team faring?" he asked.

Optimus nodded. "Impatient to return home."

Skyquake's twin released a small chuckle. "I would expect nothing less. I just hope that I will be able to meet them soon," he responded.

"As I hope, as well, Dreadwing," the Prime replied sincerely.

The large Seeker turned his attention back toward the sky, the two beings now shrouded in dusky shadows atop the cliff.

"I believe I have spent enough time on break," he commented, turning back to the young Prime. "It was a pleasure seeing you once again, Optimus."

"Likewise Dreadwing. Good luck, old friend and please stay safe," Optimus responded, nodding curtly to the spy.

The midnight jet gave a firm salute before leaping straight forth from the ground beneath him and transforming, quickly taking off and disappearing into the purple, evening sky, leaving the mighty Prime to sit and ponder over his heavy thoughts as a brisk, Spring chill settled in the air.

 


	17. Bearer of Guilt

“How are you not dying in that sweater?”

 

She swiveled her head back towards her left, reluctantly severing her deadlock gaze with the pink horizon and the crystal blue ocean stretched out before her.

 

“Huh?”

 

Mark gestured with a nod towards her shoulder. “I’m still sweating buckets from that volleyball game, and I had no shirt on,” he replied.

 

She gave a low hum. She playfully bounced her eyebrows, and gave an obvious once over his chest, now concealed under his oxford shirt. “I know. It was probably the second best view here,” she teased. She didn’t like this taunting she had adapted as of recently. The borderline cynicism that worked its way into her mouth, or the playfully taunting that laced her words.

 

It wasn’t her. She felt weird saying it, like it was being uttered from someone else. But her body, her mind, was wildly on edge, the events over the past couple of weeks leaving a trembling mess that deflected attention from herself with this weird sarcastic bantering she had acquired.

 

He let out a strong laugh, slightly warbled at the end to let her know he wasn’t arrogant enough to relish in that comment. The slight curvature of his ears also turned a slight pink shade. “Only the second best?” he teased back.

 

She laughed, why she didn’t know. Maybe to make him feel good; maybe it was more for herself.  

 

She watched Mark, from the corner of her eye, rest himself back on his elbows, chest tilted enough to still view the sparkling waves from their seat atop of the roof of his uncle’s villa. With a solid 4 hours of mixing-and-mingling, eating and intense volleyball, he pulled her aside and led her up to a bathroom and out its window.

 

He wasn’t joking when he had said his parents could be…over the top. Not only did she get a mouthful on the astounding progress and accomplishments of Mark and his two other brothers, but it seemed everyone else at the party did. No matter how many times Mark interrupted to change the subject.  

 

There was a level of benign pride beneath it all, but too often were his father and mother head locked in a ‘my horse is bigger than yours’ standoff with other parents.

 

But the way his father, sitting beside him, had affectionately ruffled his hair, and the way his mother had scoffed at his rumpled shirt after the volleyball game, caused her to desperately yearn for the loving touch of her own parents. Seeing Mark’s family made her desperately miss hers.

 

“I’m sorry about your family.”

 

Shoot—had she said that out loud? She had been so lost in thought.

 

She turned to the young Wayne beside her. He held such a somber face as he slowly pulled himself back into a sitting position beside her, their shoulders just touching.

 

She was lost.

 

“What?” Aulora asked, hoping she didn’t sound like the space cadet she was.

 

He brought his knees up and let his arms hang over them, fingers twisting rigidly against each other. “I, uh…I read about your uncle’s interview,” he started, voice uncharacteristically heavy.

 

 _Oh. That. Well, great_ , she thought.

 

She wanted to stop him right there, stop him from traveling down a road she was just in too good of a mood in to travel down. But the words in her mind weren’t falling into place in her mouth, tongue chained to her teeth. So she remained silent and let him continue.

 

“I had no idea,” he continued.

 

_Yeah, well, that had been the goal. So that everyone would have no idea._

She suddenly felt his fingers interlocked around hers, staring absent-mindedly down as thumb traced ever so softly over her hand.

 

His voice yanked her from her thoughts. “I just wanted to let you know that, if you ever need anything, some company, someone to talk to, maybe an extra parent, I will gladly give you one of mine,” he lightly joked, smiling finally at the sight of her own smile, “just know that you got a friend in me.”

 

She froze.

 

_Just know that you got a friend in me._

He knew their status. He had only been in Jasper for 2 months now, knowing Aulora for less than that. They were friends, making faces at each other in class, studying in the library during lunch, being invited to grandparent’s anniversary picnics. Sure, they had grown close over the course of several weeks, but that’s all they were.

 

Friends.

 

So he didn’t ask for an explanation.

 

He didn’t think he held some higher status with her to gain access to her mind, to think he had the right to ask for the skeletons rattling around in her closet. He didn’t think he knew her inside and out, to know when to try and pry and when not to. He didn’t presume their bridge was cemented enough to weigh it with questions of her deceased family and her miracle survival.

 

_Just know that you got a friend in me._

He wasn’t asking how she felt, or how was she holding up, or what went down that night that has her begging her uncle to lock up the story and throw away the key.

 

Just that, if she ever did need or want to talk, she could trust him. If she ever did need their bridge to hold something a little heavier than usual, he wouldn’t think twice about adding a few more pillars to keep it up.

 

It took everything in her power not to squeeze this young man in a death hold and cry into his chest. So instead, she leaned her head on his shoulder and wrapped her hands around his arm.

 

“Thank you,” she whispered.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Wait, that doesn’t make any sense.”

 

They turned to their newest recruit, Smokescreen crossing his arms, optics shut as his CPU replayed Trion’s lessons to him all those orns ago, the rest of Team Prime unsure of how they felt when their resident relic and folk lore genius was stumped.

 

It had simply been Optimus and Ratchet, completing much needed recording and logging of recent excursions and the status of present and missing Iacon Relics in the computer’s main data system.

 

However, over the course of a few minutes, Arcee, Bulkhead and Proditor had meandered in from a training session, Smokescreen and Bumblebee had come screeching to a halt in vehicle form from the ground bridge, and Stella had slinked in the midst of the chaos, making herself as small as possible against the east wall, as feelings toward the ex-Con were still unfavorable.

 

It had been some time since the entire team had had an opportunity to congregate as one. More often than not, missions were given out to smaller subgroups, simple greetings as each passed the other on their way in and out of the ground bridge had been the extent of their communication. Sleeping and consummation patterns had thus changed, the entire team operating on different time schedules.

 

The Iacon Relics were keeping them busy, along with the Con’s vigorous and almost always successful harvesting of Earth’s raw Energon deposits. Not since the unearthing of the two Zeta Relics had the team been able to sit down and regroup.

 

Now that the new recruit finally had his leader’s undivided attention, he finally had a chance to voice his suspicions.

 

“If what’s happening right now is going according to legend, the Omega keys shouldn’t be here, right now,” Smokescreen began, watching the haggard faces of his teammates slowly react to what he had just said.

 

Optimus was the first to respond, Ratchet musing to himself that the young mech seemed to always be on his toes. “What do you mean?”

 

“The Omega keys are supposed to be sent out to the location of the Star Saber once a Prime activated it,” Smokescreen explained.

 

Optimus was careful to school his expression at the mention of the Star Saber, reflecting back on his conversation with Dreadwing. Since that evening, he had still been trying to fathom how the Decepticon leader had acquired such a high-level relic right from under his nose, without so much as a peculiar energy signature. He feared of a greater tool or source of knowledge Megatron was utilizing to somehow commandeer two incredibly powerful weapons before word had even reached the Autobots.

 

Bumblebee took it upon himself to try and add some brevity to the conversation. _“I know Megatron likes to think he’s a Prime in his head. Does that count?”_ he joked, content with the exhausted snort that came from Bulkhead beside him and Proditor’s bemused, shaking head.

 

Proditor peered up at the new recruit, tired eyes squinting beneath the white overhead lights. “So you’re saying the Star Saber was tampered with?” he asked.

 

Arcee shrugged, playing along with the string of thought the team was starting to thread together. “Or the keys could’ve been. Where ever they were being kept on Cybertron could’ve been compromised. Easier than trying to mess with a mystical sword.”

 

Bulkhead grunted, unconvinced. “Anything could’ve done that! Some Scraplets could’ve gotten to them, a solid acid storm could’ve ruined the wiring. Even age could’ve affected where ever the Pit Trion was keeping them.”

 

Arcee nodded and gestured to the former Wrecker. “Exactly. So why do all of you have cryptic looks on you that scream ‘sabotage’?” she asked, peering over at Ratchet, Optimus and Smokescreen, who all bore varying levels of assessing and critical gazes.

 

The three peered over to each other, almost a silent recognition that they were all suspicious. Ratchet was the one to speak up. “Because the most obvious and safest place to keep something that’s activated by a Prime’s bio-signature, or that of someone he chose, would be Vector Sigma,” he said.

 

Arcee’s eyes widened. “The vault of Prime’s knowledge and memories. It’s real?”

 

Optimus nodded, but it was Ratchet that verbally responded, “Very much so.”

 

“Ok, but if the legends are true, then only someone with the key to Vector Sigma can find and gain access to it. Which, at this very moment, is only Optimus.”

 

The team turned to the voice off to their far right, a wide range of emotions playing out across faces as

 

Smokescreen, bless his Spark, was just innocent enough to play off of Stella’s thought without so much as a hint of displeasure. He was on a roll, and nothing and no one was going to stop him. “But that’s just it. The vault is deep underground in the most securely organized containment system Solus Prime created. Nothing and no one can get to it, except a Prime with the key. And that includes, age, weather and vermin.”

 

Bulkhead was still perplexed at the grave expressions his teammates were wearing. “Why do you guys seem so worried about this? Trion was an old dude. He probably forgot where he put the key when he had it, and someone snuck in under his watch. No big deal.”

 

“But cycle back to the bio-signature,” Arcee added, her eyes showing the young two-wheeler was in deep thought, “Only Alpha Trion could activate the key. If someone stole it, they’d just be walking around with a hunk of metal in their pocket. It’d be worthless in their hands.”

 

“So…what? You’re saying a Prime tinkered with the keys?” Bulkhead asked.

 

Proditor snorted at the preposterousness of the idea, “That’s ridiculous! They’d be ensuring the irreversible death of their own planet!”

 

“Maybe not a Prime, but something smells about this. All of the relics that have landed so far only further prove Alpha Trion’s meticulous methods,” Ratchet voiced aloud, “The fact that something as vital and powerful to Cybertron as the keys to the Regeneration Lock were tampered with makes this all the more suspicious.”

 

Bumblebee hummed with displeasure. “ _Like maybe it’s the Decepticon stench you’re smelling.”_

 

Proditor sighed at the unending treachery the Decepticons always seemed to be abundant in. “I wouldn’t put any of this past my former faction, but that still leaves too many holes, the biggest one how any of them got the means of not only finding but accessing Vector Sigma.”

 

“Alright, so how bout back to that tampering with the magical sword theory? It’s starting to seem less crazy than the whole Rogue-Prime-sabotaged-giant-key-rack idea,” Bulkhead reasoned.

 

“Once again, you’re dealing with technology that will only respond to a particular bio-signature,” Ratchet countered, gesturing to their leader beside him, “Unless you physically have a Prime present, which is impossible being the last one is standing before us, it cannot be accessed.”

 

And that was when it all clicked into place for Proditor. “By the All-Spark!”

 

The Autobots turned hesitantly to the former Con. “Proditor?”

 

 _“What’s up, buddy?”_ Bumblebee asked.

 

Proditor’s eyes remained trained on the floor, a ghost of a whisper passing through his dentia. “Of course he wasn’t going to waste him.”

 

“Waste what?”

 

“You’re kind of scaring us here.”

 

The Ater Tigris turned to the still isolated convert hiding amongst the shadows of the wall. “Stella. The Telonian chip she’s using; it’s Alpha Trion’s.”

 

Bulkhead gave Stella a quick, wary glance. “Yeah. You told us. Megatron dug up his body and pilfered it.”

 

“Yes, but he never put the body back in the Tombs’ of the Primes.”

 

The room tangibly paused, faces contorting in a large array of emotions from complete disgust to outright confusion.

 

Ratchet spread his hands out as if able to physically keep the thoughts in his mind from continuing their pathway. “Hold on.”

 

Arcee twitched uncomfortably. “Wait, ew.”

 

Smokescreen was still stuck back on first base. “You’re saying he kept the dead body?”

 

“I can only assume,” Proditor hazarded, rolling his shoulders in uncertainty, “But what if he didn’t use it for just the chip? Bio-signatures remain long after a spark has stopped operating.”

 

The base fell into meditative silence, eyes searching faces for hidden answers lined imaginatively in circuitry and bolts. Minds worked overtime, thoughts of tacticians, medics, wreckers, scouts, front liners, leaders all picking apart the pieces they were given, and filling in the spaces to complete a picture they needed to reach before the Decepticon leader made his next move.

 

A switch had been flipped, and suddenly all optics were settled wide on each other, the horror of their congruent conclusions and its resulting implications settling like old Energon in their systems.

 

“By the All Spark,” Ratchet breathed.

 

Bulkhead settled on something a little less eloquent. “Scrap.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_How are you not dying in that sweater?_

She chuckled cynically to herself, as she slipped off her sweater, sighing in relief in her tank top at the rush of air conditioning that greeted her in her doorway, listening as Mark’s Toyota drove away.

 

She had been dying. She was surprised Mark’s face hadn’t been permanently cringed at the smell of her sweat.

 

But as she looked down at the newly changed bandages looped around her hands and lower arms, giving Servo a small pat on the head as he landed on her shoulder, the anxious Scraplet relieved she had returned home, she knew that it had been worth it.

 

That was another topic she didn’t want to divulge into with Mark.

 

What was that, secret #7 now?

 

She had lost track.

 

It scared her sometimes, how easily they swept out her mouth.

 

The lies.

 

The cover stories.

 

The stretches of the truth she herself was starting to believe.

 

The red and blue semi that picked her up after school occasionally; that was one of her uncle’s associates who worked in the area and didn’t like the thought of a young girl walking home alone.  

 

Even though it was Jasper. And absolutely nothing happened in Jasper.

 

Except for the 7 autonomous robotic organisms from a distant planet hiding out in an abandoned missile silo.

 

The Darby kid she left school with most days, atop his midnight blue motorcycle: the Darby’s were longtime friends of the family and she often went to their house to work on homework or for dinner (not entirely wrong, he just didn’t know they spent a solid 6 hours with the bots before all of that happened).

 

The frequent times she was whisked out of school at the drop of a hat, or the accumulating sick days she took: she got sporadic migraines that were past the help of any medicine.  

 

The yellow Urbana and the green off-roader could be explained, but the ambulance waiting for her sometimes outside the school: just friends of the family who like to keep an eye on her from time to time.

 

Her uncle, who never picks her up from school, or attends parent teacher conferences, performances, and seems to be all over the world but Jasper: he likes to send reporters on a wild goose chase for him somewhere else in the world, so they aren’t expecting him at home.

 

Ok.

 

So maybe the last one wasn’t really bot related.

 

But now that she thought about it, Uncle Chris just opened up a whole other treasure chest full of lame excuses and even lousier cover up stories she seemed to spew with the speed and accuracy of a semi-automatic weapon.

 

“Did you have fun?”

 

She jumped and screamed in surprise, hand grabbing with frightening speed for her purse, raising Nova’s rod out in front of her, the relic immediately glowing a lazy gold.

 

Proditor hummed in amusement, flicking on the overhead lights with his tail. “At ease, mighty warrior,” he teased, Aulora immediately relaxing.

 

“You enjoy torturing me, don’t you?”

 

He shrugged. “Nothing much else exciting in my life.”

 

She chuckled as she made her way over to Proditor, letting her body slide down her stairwell wall to fall with a thud beside him. “Exploding Energon mines and armed Decepticons just not enough for your adrenaline quota?” she asked, tiredly tilting her head to the side to look at her friend.

 

His shoulders lazily shrugged. “It is a little lacking, I will admit. And with all of these relics in our possession, I might as well just retire,” he joked, yellow optics twinkling with mirth in her direction.

 

 _Retire._ His statement suddenly made her pause, a thought striking her. “How old _are_ you, Proditor?”

 

He tilted his head down to her, smirking with slight surprise in his optics. “Aren’t you forward,” he commented, Aulora smiling.

 

He let a soft wave of air through his nose, watching the young human cub beside him with affection. “Many years old,” he replied nostalgically, as if his age didn’t apply to him in that moment in time, but to someone else, somewhere else. “About 20 of your Earth years, give or take a few millennia,” he responded.

 

She made a surprised face. “You’re younger than I thought you’d be.”

 

He turned to her, eyebrow arched. “How old did you think I was!?” he asked, a chuckle trickling in his voice.

 

She threw him a cocky look and a wink. “Old enough to retire,” she teased back.

 

It was the Ater Tigris’s turn to roll his eyes at his human friend. “Oh, aren’t we just _hilarious_ today,” he deadpanned, thought his glimmering eyes betrayed his annoyance.

 

His smile grew bigger at the sound of the young cub’s laughter, as he let his body stretch out lazily, head resting on her leg, a deep purr traveling across his chest. It only grew louder when her fingers began massaging that damning spot behind his ear.

 

She knew him too well. “So how was your day?” he asked.  
  


She gave a small hum. “It was actually really great. It helped me forget about some…stuff.”

 

And almost immediately, the Ater Tigris’s body went still, tensing beneath her touch. She sighed.

 

This is what she had feared.

 

“You heard about it too, didn’t you?” she asked tentatively.

 

The Ater Tigris lifted his heavy head from her lap and looked up at the small cub, eyes wide with too many emotions for her to process. “I’m so sorry, Aulora,” he finally said, sighing at how inadequate his words felt.

 

She gave him a thin, tight smile and nodded her head. “Yeah. I’ve been hearing that a lot lately,” she answered, eyes falling down to her fingers that traced along the jagged indentations in the Ater Tigris’s plating.

 

Proditor let hot air rush out through his nose, studying the suffering child before him. How many times had he seen that down turned face that betrayed all those conflicting emotions such a young child could not, for the life of them, hide?

 

His heart throbbed inside him at the flood of memories that began to drown his own mind. He all but collapsed in the young cub’s lap, burying his head into the small valley formed by her legs, trying to hide from the onslaught of flashbacks he thought he had kept at bay.

 

But they were encroaching on his mind for a reason; not to cause him suffering, but to offer someone else release.

 

“Back on Cybertron, during the War, I was the leader of one of the few remaining packs of Ater Tigreses left. I had a mate and a young cub during this time.”

 

Her fingers came to a brutal halt along his head. The silence seemed to stretch on for eternity.

 

“Wait, hold on. You were a husband!? And a father!?” she asked, astonished.

 

He turned his head in her lap to face her, eyes present yet distant all at the same time. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing left his throat. He could only watch as her face dropped.

 

“You never told me,” she whispered, expression broken and devastated, over one little word.

 

_Had._

 

He _had_ a mate and a young cub.

 

“Well, it appears we both kept secrets from each other.”

 

He didn’t know why he said that. It was an unnecessary comment during a much too fragile moment, but she spoke up before he could recant it.

 

“Fair enough,” she admitted, with a slight dip of her head.

 

He watched her a few moments longer before laying down once more and slipping his head beneath her hand. She gave a sad smile and resumed rubbing behind his audio receptors. “It was during these years that Megatron began putting much support behind his science division, apparently gaining minimum satisfaction in the combat he was already fueling. He spearheaded many projects and research in biological forms of warfare. He placed a scientist called Shockwave as its lead researcher.”

 

She nodded. “Cliffjumper told me stories about that basket case.”

 

“He was insane,” Proditor affirmed, “but a genius at his work.”

 

Brief, blurred and contorted memories of the scientist poked at his mind, Shockwave his first and higher ranking handler while he was experimented on, and for a brief period afterward to monitor possible hiccups in his creation of the most lethal weapon the Decepticons controlled to date.

 

“While experimenting with the Decepticons current forms of psychological torture, he stumbled upon a possible electro-magnetic system that could be used to take enough control over one’s cerebral unit to bend them to one’s will. It was in its early stages of development, and Shockwave wanted to upgrade to live testing, and decided to start trials on creatures,” Proditor continued. “This was a little later in the war, and most of it had wiped creatures clear off the planet. Except for Ater Tigrises.”

 

Aulora nodded. Their shadowing-phasing capabilities had saved them.

 

“So they came for you,” she said, coming to the conclusion quickly.

 

Proditor nodded, jagged plating along his face catching in his jeans. “Ater Tigrises are not domestic creatures. We were not known for interacting with the bots,” he explained, experiencing such a strange detachment from the life he had led, and was now regaling to the alien species. “Which of course made capturing ones of us all the more difficult, along with our shadow-shifting techniques. But as I said before, Shockwave was a genius at his work.”

 

His last comment sunk Aulora’s stomach straight to the bottom of her feet. Shockwave had found a way somehow.

 

He allowed himself one large, heavy breath before continuing, trying to stop his body from shaking. “I was on first watch late one cycle. On my rounds, I heard my mate and cub calling for me off in the distance. Fearing the worst, I ran towards them,” he began, voice dropping uncharacteristically low.

 

He paused. “It had been a trap.”

 

Aulora could already feel her eyes welling with tears. A part of her didn’t want to hear this, the demise of two beautiful souls who didn’t deserve the ending they were given. But another part of her knew she needed to here this, as much as Proditor needed to release it from his chest.

 

There was a mutual understanding between the guilt-ridden hearts.

 

He continued, though his wavering voice felt like retreating, “Shockwave had recorded the screams of my family when he had been previously torturing my pack,” he stopped momentarily as his voice failed him, throat quivering and lubricant now freely flowing from his optics and soaking the human youngling’s mesh coverings. He felt her hand flatten out, holding his head rather than rubbing it. He shakily resumed, “…a-and I stumbled upon their d-dead bodies with at least a dozen Con d-droids with blasters t-trained on me. Everything went black.”

 

Aulora barely heard the Ater Tigris’s following statement beneath her own sobs and raging heartbeat. “And then Shockwave began the rewiring process.”

 

Proditor slowly raised himself from the ground, limbs feeling heavier. He looked up at the pup before him, and his heart broke at the anguish in her face, bright blue obscured by the pools of lubricant around her optics, hushed moans echoing in her throat.

 

“Oh, Aulora,” he said, leaning his muzzle down to nuzzle her head, the young human latching her arms around him as she cried into his chest.

 

“I know what it’s like to lose a family, little one. To lose a part of your soul in one foul swoop, and never be able to truly replace it,” he whispered into her audio receptor, breath playing at the fur on her head.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Alright, alright! I’m coming!”

 

She wanted to spend more time with Proditor; needed to. That weight that he had just dropped at her feet needed to be discussed more. They couldn’t just leave his words there on the floor. They needed to be picked up and inspected some more.

 

She needed to console him; apologize for his loss as everyone seemed to have an instinct of doing.

 

She was still reeling at how young he was, how he had started a family and led a pack, and lost it all, in such a short lifetime.

 

But the incessant pounding at her door was disrupting her thoughts, the mangled ones that she couldn’t seem to put into words. So she took the small mercy and headed to her garage, Servo perching with anticipation on her shoulder.

 

Though he already knew who was at the door. Her garage was exclusive only to Team Prime; the humans had a key to the side door and the bots had a scanner on the fake dial pad. It was always locked.

 

“Alright, what’s--,” she started, opening up her back door, but upon seeing who was in her garage, and the state they were in, her voice dropped to hesitancy. “--hey guys.”

 

Arcee was transforming, bending her back slightly with one leg bent beneath her to fit in the small space, eyes falling on her charge, clad still in his school clothes, as he hastily paced in lines before her.

 

She glanced curiously between the two, Proditor squeezing past her in the doorway into the garage. Arcee looked up briefly to give her comrade a slight nod in recognition, trained eyes catching the somber mood surrounding the two, along with Aulora’s red face and the wet armor below Proditor’s optics, before turning back to her clearly distraught partner. “What are you two doing out here so late?” Aulora asked.

 

Arcee pulled her gaze from her charge to look up at her. Her vibrantly purple and blue optics were swimming with helplessness and fear.

 

Aulora looked suspiciously back at her friend, who was still pacing, hands scrubbing desperately at his face. “Jack? Are you alright?”

 

She finally took in the state of her longtime friend.

 

He was still in his jeans and shirt from school at 12 o’clock at night, heavily crinkled. His hair was askew, as hands had been pulling and tugging at it for hours.

 

Though Jack was a pale kid to begin with, his pallor was even whiter than normal, as if had just bumped in to a ghost.

 

The fact that he was in her garage at midnight, and not home profusely assuring his mom that he wasn’t hold up on the Nemesis and was unharmed, spoke volumes.

 

She hesitantly walked up to him, trying to peer underneath the mess of hair that hid his down turned face. “Jack, come on. Talk to me. What’s wrong?” she asked.

 

At first, she didn’t think he was going to respond. His eyes still seemed wide and unfocused. But after a few long and painful seconds, he responded. “I saw him.”

 

A small part of her relaxed, truly worried that someone had died with the horrified state he seemed to be in, but now her curiosity was piqued even higher. She asked “Who?”

 

Another several, painful seconds. A loud gulp to swallow fear and wet a dry throat. “My dad.”

 

The young McAllister’s eyes widened, mouth dropping open, head shaking in denial.

 

“Wait, hold on. What!?” she exclaimed, watching with regret as her outburst made Jack flinch and close in further on himself. He was having trouble dealing with this as well.

 

She mentally composed herself, took a steady breath and tried to make eye contact with her friend again. “Jack, that’s impossible. He— “

 

But Jack cut in, haven been down her train of thought before. “Up and left, Aulora. He’s not _dead_.”

 

She gave a slight, conceding shrug, admitting the slight possibility of the situation. “I know. But after all these years…it just seems— “

 

He finished her sentence again. “Crazy? Yeah, I know.”

 

He plopped down hard on the cement flooring, letting his arms dangle along his knees, eyes taking on the vacant stare again. He seemed really rattled about it.

 

Aulora slipped down on one knee beside him, looking increasingly worried for Jack. “Are you sure it was him?”

 

“Of course I’m sure, Aulora!” Jack yelled tensely at her, eyes raging.

 

Aulora visibly flinched back as she got to her feet, almost falling back down to the ground. Arcee’s eyes grew wide at her partner’s rare tone, and though Proditor was fond of Aulora’s raven-haired friend, he growled out a soft warning to the young Darby to watch himself.

 

He shook his head, as if shaking his tense state, and looked back up at his friend with remorseful eyes, “Sorry.”

 

Aulora melted at the state of her old friend and immediately took seat beside him, wrapping an arm around him as his shaking form curled into her to lean his head against her shoulder. She comfortingly ran her fingers along the back of his head. “It’s ok, it’s ok,” she whispered to him.

 

“He was too rattled to go home. Couldn’t form one word. I was afraid June would think I brought him out into the field,” Arcee relayed softly, watching her partner, deep with worry.

 

She had never seen her partner loose his composure as he had done. Of anyone on Team Prime, Jack, alongside Optimus and Aulora, seemed to be most level-headed and composed, even in the most tumultuous situations. 

 

Aulora filled in the rest. _Jack didn’t want to explain to his mother why he was spooked._

 

“Where did you see him?” she asked him softly.

 

“On the other side of Wilcott,” he mumbled into her shoulder, letting the fresh detergent, subtle perfume, and hint of salt water center him.

 

Arcee added, “He was working when he called me to come get him immediately.”

 

Jack had left right in the middle of shift? He didn’t even like doing that when the Bots were dealing with a serious emergency.

 

“What happened? Did he come up to you?” she asked.

 

He shook his head, slowly detaching himself from her shoulder, still maintaining though his slumped and defeated-like posture with downcast eyes. “No. He saw me though. And he smiled. And winked. And then kept walking,” he relayed softly.

 

Aulora felt an uncomfortable shiver travel along her bones, skin breaking out in goosebumps. Her eyes met Proditor’s and he, too, looked slightly perturbed.

 

Proditor was the one to finally speak, coming up to sit beside them, head towering feet above theirs, tail dancing along the concrete. “As unpleasant as that sight might have been, there was no engagement. No harm came to you, Jack. It’s alright. You are safe,” he comforted.

 

And Aulora couldn’t help but see Proditor’s statement from a whole different angle now. It wasn’t just a teammate reassuring a teammate; it was a former farther comforting the scared child before him. What else had he said or done in the past that she simply glimpsed over as something a compatriot would say?

 

Though Proditor knew little of the situation between Jack and his estranged dad, he did have a point.

 

Nothing was said or done, there was minimal interaction, increasing the possibility that Jack simply thought he saw his dad.

 

Even, in the very unlikely chance it was Arthur, Aulora didn’t fear much would come of his visit.

 

She had never met Jack’s father, but her parents and aunt had been friends with the Darby family, and seemed to have nothing but nice things to say about them. Her father seemed to respect Mr. Darby, and she in turn respected him. He seemed to be as gentle as his wife and son were.

 

If Jack had really seen his father, Aulora was confident that Arthur Darby was simply checking back on the beautiful family he so foolishly turned away from all those years ago. As creepy as it seemed, especially if he did actually smile and wink at Jack, there was nothing they could really do about it.

 

“But why!? Why is he here, in Jasper!? After 5 whole years, why now? What does he want?”

 

“I don’t know, Jack. I honestly don’t know. But I promise you, that everything’s going to be ok. Arcee, Proditor and I will keep an eye out for him. Make sure he keeps away from you and your mom. And maybe we’ll find out what he’s actually doing here in Jasper. Ok?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

She understood now, why Miko and Bulkhead liked to sit out on the edge of the butte that encased the abandoned missile silo; why they relished in the thrill of dangling their feet over the fringe of the rock formation’s flat top.

 

While you remained on the edge, the arid, howling winter winds took everything else with it down to the ground below; confidence, pride, fear, anxiousness, worry, happiness, content, all of it.

 

It sloughed off her like dirt. She felt nothing as she looked over the flat escape beyond the base, the golden evening light promising an equally astounding darkness in just a few hours.

 

She felt empty and hollow, the rough winds continuing to blow almost through her, cleansing her of ever emotional chain she kept wrapped tightly around her.

 

_I’m so sorry for your loss, Aulora._

_Bummer to hear about your family, kid._

_If there’s anything you ever need, just let me know._

_I know what you must be going through._

_Talk when you’re ready._

_Why didn’t you tell us?_

_Leave it to the celebrities to make such a big, secretive deal over a car crash._

_Heard the bitch bailed on her family’s funerals. What kind of person does that?_

_That’s got to be so weird; living while the rest of your family’s dead._

_She’s like, supernatural dude! Walking away from the crash all like, intact, you know!?_

_Why does she look all depressed now? She’s had 5 years to grieve, for crying out loud._

_At least she’s got a cool, rich uncle._

_Do you think she wishes she was dead, too?_

_She’s got a second chance at life now. She better not waste it._

_I’d miss my family too much. I’d just go crazy._

_Why does she feel the need to publish all about her life like this? Like are you that desperate for attention?_

_She probably told her uncle to write about it. Make her more popular in school._

_Your parents were good people. They’ll be missed._

She lifted her arm and tilted her hand down to the ground hundreds of feet below her, letting the words that stuck to her like lint roll down her hand and off of her.

 

Like a stream of water.

 

She didn’t want words anymore.

 

Condolences.

 

Assurances. 

 

Rumors.

 

Snide remarks.

 

She didn’t want them.

 

They’ve been dead for 5 years now. Nothing was going to change that. Words weren’t going to change that. Words didn’t do anything.

 

They filled a silence people thought needed to be filled.

 

But teetering dangerously over the edge of a 500-foot drop taught her something; she liked the silence. She didn’t want to fill it with anything.

 

She wanted silence. Because silence meant she was alone. And it was so easy being alone. No words required.

 

She knew he was looking for her, could feel the restlessness in his mind itch at her own, as she continued to hide everywhere he wasn’t. She knew he wanted to talk.

 

And as she heard his steady footfall drawing nearer from the top exit, she grew more and more annoyed.

 

Couldn’t he read her mind? Didn’t he know she wanted to be alone? That she didn’t want to be with him?

 

“Not right now, Optimus.”

 

The sharpness of her voice startled even her, but she didn’t care. She hugged her legs tightly, trying to seem as small as possible, and turned her back to her guardian.

 

Seconds passed, and the footsteps had stopped, but he wasn’t leaving. He was still standing there. She felt anger boiling in her stomach. Why couldn’t anybody just leave her alone today?!

 

She had been putting on too many smiles and looks of indifference. She was exhausted. Didn’t he get that? Why didn’t he respect that?

 

She gave a sharp sigh. “Look, can you please just leave, Optimus? I want to be alone right now,” she threw at him again, hoping the malice in her voice was enough to drive him away.

 

Of anyone, she really didn’t want to talk to Optimus. She didn’t know why, but she did.

 

“Do you wish for general solitude, or only the removal of just my presence?” he asked, guilt twisting ruthlessly at the sound of his gentle voice, oblivious by the cruelty she was directing at him.

 

“Just go, Optimus!” she yelled, voice shaking as emotion broke through. She released a trembling breath to compose herself. “Please. Just go,” she repeated.

 

She focused on her breathing, on the barriers around her mind, and quickly hardened their structure. She could feel Optimus’s appalled psychic gasp explode in her heart like a gust of wind, as he was forced out of her mind, ripped from its nesting area.

_That’s right,_ she wanted to say. _I mean business. Get out. Go away._

No, she really couldn’t deal with Optimus right now. And she knew why. She was fooling herself with her pit party of being exhausted, and tired, and solitude-starved.

 

No. She wanted Optimus to leave, because she wanted him to _stay._

 

Her body, her mind, and her heart were craving his presence. Her body wished to be settled against his warm armor that smelled of burnt Energon, his deep voice always rattling his plating, trembling soundwaves traveling up her fingers. Her mind craved to be swimming inside his, feeling his presence wrap around her like honey that oozed down the sides of her head and melted away reality. Her heart ached to be near him, to know he was there just for her.

 

And then everything would fall off of her; the castle around her heart, the barriers around her mind, the secrets from her mouth. She couldn’t protect anything when he was around her. Every memory, secret, feeling was at his mercy.

 

And it terrified her.

 

She was so lost in her anxiousness, that she didn’t even realize Optimus had come up beside her until she felt the ground shake beneath her as the tall, stoic leader sat himself down on the edge, both legs dangling over.

 

No. She couldn’t do this right now. Not now. Not with him.

 

“What’s your problem!? Leave me alone!” she screamed at him, launching herself off the ground and into a steady stride away from her guardian. “I don’t want to be around you!”

 

She scared herself at the ferocity and maliciousness behind her words, but there was no taking them back now. She just kept walking away.

 

Oh what a fool she was for not knowing Optimus Prime knew her better than she thought she knew herself.

 

“One of the many benefits of the physical alterations I underwent after receiving the Matrix of Leadership was that I resembled nothing of the appearance I had as Orion Pax.”

 

She cursed his name beneath her breath, as she paused in leaving at the sound of his voice. How dare he use her greatest kryptonite against her? Stories.

 

The large Cybertronian continued, gaze falling out to the open expanse of desert before him, with an ear tuned to what his human charge was doing behind him. “I enlarged in both size and stature, flat plain armor plating replaced with what I bear now, edges defined and sharpened for battle and transformations through my T-Cog. I was completely unrecognizable. It was as if Optimus Prime was an identity all of its own.”

 

He listened, hearing her footsteps stop. He had got her. He sent out a quick plea to Cliffjumper for help, for the Prime wasn’t a story teller. The red front-liner had had a knack for it, enough to keep the young McAllister begging for more.

 

And then he continued. “Alpha Trion suddenly brought me before the council and the growing Autobot army, and immediately people congregated to me for answers, with no prior knowledge of who I was nor the life I led before,” he regaled.

 

He heard an ever-so-slight scratch in the sand; she was turning to hear him better. “One of the small mercies I was granted was that the armies and the soldiers I led were not educated in the rather bleak earlier orns of Orion Pax’s life.”

 

_Orion Pax._

 

Every time she heard that name, the first designation of Optimus Prime, the mech behind the legend that seemed to always be shrouded in secrecy, she got a serious case of the chills along her spine.

 

Something about Orion Pax seemed so mystical and supernatural, though she was looking right at him. Knowing Optimus had a whole other life before becoming a Prime, that he wasn’t always one, felt strange to her.

 

And she had always wanted to know more. The little glimpses into his past life, whether an offhand comment made by Ratchet or a slip of the tongue from the Cybertronian himself, had her begging for more.

 

Of course he knew that. And of course he would use it to his advantage.

 

_Fight it, Aulora. You can do it. Just walk away._

 

But she couldn’t.

 

Her urge to hit her guardian increased ten-fold when she could feel his smile ghost across her mind, as she walked closer to him. She remained standing though. She didn’t want to stay for long. She still had a point to prove to her stubborn, thick-headed leader.

 

“My carrier was a champion for the arts, and was often traveling about the city-state promoting Iacon’s unique forms of natural light structures. My sire, on the other hand, was similar to your lawyers, upholding a system of order and law much like the one in operation, here in the United States. He was what you would refer to as a prosecutor. He profoundly adored his job.”

 

Everything in Aulora screeched to a brutal halt.

 

_Carrier._

_Sire._

She knew those words; they had been translated for her all those years ago in a small one-car garage by a vintage red 1970 Dodge Challenger with bull horns mounted on his grill.

 

_Mother and father._

_Optimus’s mother and father._

_Optimus’s parents._

_Optimus had parents._

Her brain tried desperately to keep up with all of the connections and conclusions her mind was drawing on rapid fire. But all of them were hitting the same target.

 

_Optimus has a family._

Why did she somehow assume he didn’t?

 

She had gotten the sputtered run-down of Cybertronian reproduction from Cliffjumper; though varying in some major aspects from human reproduction, much of it was similar.

 

It would be no different for Optimus.

 

 _Prime_ didn’t make him any less Cybertronian; any less normal.

 

_Optimus has a family._

He had a father and mother. The people who were the first to teach him right from wrong, to guide him in all his endeavors through this lifetime. The mech sitting beside her didn’t just embody the Optimus Prime persona overnight. He was granted the Matrix of Leadership because of the spark of Orion Pax.

 

The spark his sire and carrier had loved, groomed, taught, and cared for.

 

“I grew up during the beginning peak of the Golden Age, when many were still accustomed to simpler forms of criminal activity,” he continued, his voice, as if a switch had been flipped, took on a solemnness so heavy and fragile, it was if another person had slipped into her guardian’s place.

 

She wasn’t speaking to Optimus Prime anymore.

 

So who was she speaking to?

 

“It would be around this time that the fractioning ideas of rebellion would begin to stir, and with it mutate the social system into a harbinger of chaos, of the tense innocent and the courageous guilty.”

 

He sounded so young, his voice void of the strength and conviction he seemed to always have. The authoritative ring was gone.

 

It was Orion Pax she was talking to now. So she listened good and listened hard, knowing how rare of a moment she was in right then and there.

 

She’d probably never hear Orion Pax again.

 

“Very premature assemblies of groups with budding ideas of the now Decepticon faction came in criminal mobs and gangs that saw the injustice of the caste system, and decided that ‘an eye for an eye’ would lessen their pain. They began to rob business and homes of the less fortunate. The reigned with terror on the streets,” he explained, Aulora loosing herself in his voice.

 

“My father was responsible for putting away a leader of one of these early mobs. Cybertron had never seen crime such as this, and my family was unprepared for the new evil that had begun to grow with its society,” he continued, pausing in his story to look down at his charge to see her wide, azure eyes locked in a complete trance on his.

 

Their gazes met, and she was suddenly reminded of the stubborn act she was supposed to be holding against her guardian, and scowled at him and pointedly turned away from him, arms crossing.

 

He gave her a sad smile, eyes full of compassion. “The leaderless gang, in true anger, had found where my sire lived. I returned from my studies one day when I was young to find my home burned to ashes, my carriers dead inside.”

 

Aulora’s eyes widened as she slowly turned back to her leader, mouth agape, as he continued to look at her with sympathy.

 

 _Him._ Look at _her_ with sympathy. Why?

 

It was _his_ parents, _his_ world, that died that day. He lost everything, so quickly, so violently. But it was _her_ he was grieving for. She could see it in his eyes; those intense blue optics swimming with energy.

 

And he watched as the floodgates were opened, and his charge completely broke before him.

 

Her eyes flooded almost instantly, and tears began their steady stream down her face so quickly, he could see her surprise at the droplets wetting her cheeks. Her posture completely deflated, whatever stronghold she thought she had on her bones completely shattered. And if it weren’t for his steady hand to catch and cradle her body, her knees would’ve hit the ground.

 

The titan brought the small child up to his shoulder, where he gently deposited her right into the crook of his neck, and he smiled in pure relief when she curled into him and cried into him with every ounce of energy she had left.

 

He knew that was what she had needed. For someone to truly understand; that self-blame can even befall the youngest of children when an unexplainable evil enters their world. She needed to know someone had felt her pain, understood how nerving it could feel to fall into memories and thoughts and suddenly feel like you had no footing in the life you lived in; that the world that had disappeared so long ago was the only world you were granted and whatever you were floating around in at the moment was nothing more than air.

 

He knew what those brutal morning awakenings felt like, those long unsettling nights, those moments when you didn’t feel like you belonged in your own life, in your own skin. He even knew how those dark, dark moments felt, those moments when you could not feel guiltier for moving on without them, as if the success, the love you felt now was somehow disgracing _their_ memories, _their_ love.   

 

His own heart broke as he took advantage of her weakened psychic defenses and eased himself around her mind in a comforting gesture, his hand at the same time cupping around her, gently rubbing her back, and her sobs only increased ten-fold.

 

And she cried.

 

She cried for her guardian.

 

And she cried for herself.

 

Two souls whose entire worlds were stolen right from underneath their feet.

 

Time passed as the young human released every emotion she had been forced to bottle up ever since her uncle and his unblemished lifestyle came into her life, her guardian a steadying force as she battled through it all. Her body eventually began to drain and tire, and her cries began to slowly lessen, until she sniffled loudly and opened her eyes to glance at the side of her guardian’s face she could see. “Sorry,” she mumbled.

 

Her body hummed as a displeased sound echoed in the Autobot’s chest. “There is no need for apologies, Aulora. Know that with me, your emotions are never a burden,” he replied.

 

There was a beat of silence as she slid her fingers along the smooth plating along his neck absentmindedly. “Shouldn’t it be _I_ who’s comforting _you_?”

 

He smiled. “I fortunately had the presence of a friend and mentor in my life who led me through the more troubling times in my life. I came to terms with my carriers passing a long time ago,” he explained.

 

And he did.

 

She could hear it in his voice. There was a light sound of nostalgia upon a life that once was, but it wasn’t weighed down with anything more; sorrow, grief, regret, blame.

 

He could sense her mind come to this realization and voiced aloud, “Alpha Trion was an advocate for voicing inner thoughts. He said talking was the first step in overcoming.”

 

More silence.

 

He wasn’t going to push; Alpha Trion never did. But something inside him ached for his charge to release whatever burden she was carrying.

 

“It’s my fault they’re dead.”

 

It was barely even a whisper, so tiny his audio receptors had barely picked up the sound frequency. He almost thought he imagined it, until she repeated it again.

 

“It’s my fault they’re dead.”

 

He turned his head to face his charge on his shoulder, eyes deeply perplexed. “How could you possibly come to a conclusion like that?” he asked.

 

She turned her head down and averted her eyes.

 

“ _You_ do,” she said.

 

His head cocked slightly in confusion as he turned fully to study his charge.

 

_What was she referring to?_

“I know what goes on in your head, Optimus. I know you’ve come to terms with your carriers’ deaths, but there’s something you still grieve, something you still hold so much guilt for. It’s heavily guarded in the back of your mind,” she said, gently tapping the side of his head, “I’ve never been able to see it, but I know it’s there,” she explained, watching as his deep blue optics grew twice in size, nourished by fear.

 

_How had she gotten so far, so deep into his mind?_

 

He had built such impenetrable structures around those memories, that sometimes even he had trouble procuring memories from that time on command. They inhabited that deepest depths of his mind, hidden away, and yet she had somehow found them.

 

She had discovered the one thing he wished to truly keep off-limits from her, the one thing that had him deeply worried the moment he realized what their minds were capable of doing with each other’s.

 

Something akin to panic had begun to settle in, the rustling of the agitated Primes within the Matrix helping in no way. They hated that memory as much as he wished to forget it. It was at the top of the long list of the reasons why he was unworthy to vessel that Matrix of Leadership.

 

Aulora was stunned to watch the emotions that played across the Autobot leader’s face, the reserves of grief Orion Pax was releasing fought by Optimus Prime, desperately trying to keep his composure. 

 

So she did what Optimus had done for her; she helped a lost soul.

 

She raised her hand and placed it gently along Optimus’s cheek, immediately tensing as a familiar electric force coursed through, her nerves energized.

 

**_“Optimus, it’s ok to still grieve for someone. You can’t bottle up all of your pain and think it will just disappear.”_ **

****

He didn’t respond, his face never wavered, but she knew he heard her in his mind.

 

So she tried again. **_“What was their name?”_**

****

Again no response. His eyes were barely open, vacant stare falling as far away from her as possible. He didn’t want her to see him break; a teammate discover their mighty leader wasn’t as infallible as they were lead to believe.

 

The silence continued to stretch on, as the war for peace continued to rage on in the young Prime’s head; a young, grief-stricken mech, vying for release, versus a mighty, stoic legendary hero keeping up appearances. There had always been a balance of the two, often the scale tipping further to the warrior’s side, the side with rational ideas, intelligent tactics, and a request for space from attachments.

 

The two had always had room to breathe.

 

Now, there wasn’t enough. The youngling scholar was choking for air, gasping for a breath that wasn’t there. The leader had taken it all, vacuumed out the excess just so the young mech couldn’t speak.

 

And she saw him, the young mech. Choking. Gasping. Yelling. His little charge saw him, saw Orion Pax. And she reached in, cool water-like waves of her mind reaching spaces of his he didn’t know were there, places that shook him to his core, grabbed Orion Pax’s hand and pulled him free.

 

And along with him, pulled free a name that electrocuted every nerve in his body like the lightening that would streak down from the sky during those especially devastating acid storms on Cybertron.

 

**_“Ariel.”_ **

****

At the drop of her name, she was pummeled with an onslaught of thought, her mind drowning in a blinding tidal wave of emotions and memories that it couldn’t even begin to analyze individually.

 

The dam had broken. The light had been turned on, and those black, hideous shadows that used to govern the far reaches of Optimus’s mind were cast out. Nothing was being held back. All of the tip-toeing, all of the fragile cautiousness they always held around each other, as if something devastating would slip from their minds they couldn’t take back, was gone.

 

All of his thoughts were at her mercy.

 

It was too powerful the moment it began; she wanted to vomit. It went from a steady stream to a rushing waterfall in seconds, and her mind wasn’t prepared to take it on. It was drowning, struggling for a breath, a break in the current, but there was none. It was slipping from whatever steady footing it had had, losing her grip on Optimus’s mind. She could feel him there, sensing her distress, sensing her pain and panic, and was too raw, too shaken to realize his own mind was drowning hers.  

 

**_“Breathe, youngling. I cannot help you if you are panicking as you are.”_ **

 

The voice in her head echoed like a clap of thunder against her skull. But it grounded her, tethered her to the rest of the world, so she grabbed onto it. And somehow, she knew who it was; felt like she had known him for so long.

 

**_“Alpha Trion.”_ **

 

A weathered smile. A comforting chuckle. A mysterious gleam in an eye.

 

**_“Hello, youngling. I’ve been wanting to have this conversation for some time.”_ **

****

The memories continued to course through her mind at their pummeling speeds, but it was as if he had pulled her free, and now the two stood above the roaring chaos, watching it from afar in the eye of the storm.

 

**_“I can’t normally reach out to you. The others are so loud within Orion’s Matrix, and they overpower me. But, Orion’s mind is in enough of a mess to send them running for their money. It’s just you and me right now, Aulora.”_ **

****

Alpha Trion. The third Prime. The only voice she never heard amongst the cacophony of others in the dead of night. The only Prime who was truly there for Optimus.

 

**_“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”_ **

****

She smiled.

 

**_“The pleasure’s is all mine.”_ **

****

A smile, warm and comforting, blanketed her senses.

 

**_“I had hoped our encounter would be under more desirable circumstances, but as I believe your species puts it, beggars cannot be choosers.”_ **

****

She nodded, though if he saw it or not, she didn’t know, so she replied. **_“I understand.”_**

****

She peered down once again at the swirling abyss, the cyclone of chaos in Optimus’s mind. How had he been able to keep so much back? So much at bay? He wasn’t much of a divulging person, but because she was as well, she never questioned it. Never tried to pry. Maybe she should’ve tried harder. Maybe he needed someone to try harder.

****

**_“Is Optimus going to be ok?”_** she asked.

 

Alpha Trion could see the underlining question as clear as day; _did I hurt him?_

****

There was a nod. ** _“Orion will be alright. You were just able to accomplish a feat I had never been able to.”_**

****

There was slight awe in his voice, she could feel it tickle along her veins like little bugs. As if he had tried, but had never succeed. And she somehow had been able to. He had been able to help Orion through the loss of his carriers, but the death of this Ariel figure had been too much for him; it had been the straw to break the camel’s back. He had closed off completely after that, and full donned the new identity of Prime with every intention of stiffening Orion. 

****

She asked, **_“How can I help? How do I reach him?”_**

****

**_“Do you remember the first time you and Orion held a telepathic connection?”_ **

****

How could she forget? **_“Yes.”_**

****

**_“The visions that you saw, the voices that you heard; those are what you are seeing now. Both of your minds were unguarded during that first encounter, and all was exposed for the other to see. You both wrenched yourselves free after realizing where exactly you were.”_ **

****

The screaming. The flames. The destruction. The fear and pain that felt so real is was palpable. It was too frightening for her at the time. Right now, she would take back that moment over the onslaught she was dangling so close to. **_“So this is everything I was supposed to see that day?”_**

****

A nod. **_“Indeed.”_**

****

Her stomach dropped. The mind was a two-way door. **_“And everything Optimus was supposed to see?”_**

****

A knowing smile. ** _“Well, now that’s up to you, isn’t it?”_**

****

And then he was gone, the absence of his mind leaving such a gaping hole in hers it almost hurt. He had been her stable footing, and now she felt herself stumbling towards the rapids of Optimus’s open current of memories.

 

_Easy. Easy, Aulora._

_Just dip your foot._

_Just let your fingers touch._

 

She was sinking closer to the chaos, but there was a firm footing beneath her, as if someone was keeping her up, keeping her from getting lost. She sent out a quick thank you to Alpha Trion amongst the tempest and slowly let her hand dangle further past the footing she held; let the frigid memories lap and her fingers and electrify her mind.

 

**_“She was your girlfriend.”_ **

****

He still wasn’t looking at her, feeling the avoidance in the physical world, still staring at memories she could and couldn’t see, and when he responded, his voice was miles away. **_“She was so much more to me. She was everything to me.”_**

****

She could tell, could see those fleeting glimpses of smiles and laughs and touches and moments that left a lasting impression on Optimus. They were always together, destinies tethered together like two shooting stars on the same course.

****

**_“I wasn’t supposed to fall in love.”_ **

****

At his voice, one moment fell into clarity, enveloping her every sense, drowning her until she woke up long seconds later, gasping for air in another reality. She could smell the familiar scents of burnt Energon and metals in the air. She could feel the jagged plating of Cybertron’s ground beneath her feet, could taste clean iron in the air. She could hear the sounds of explosions and firing arms in the distance, incoherent yells muddling it all together.

 

But before her, all she could see were two Cybertronians, both close in height, the right most likely a femme, her body structure quite similar to Arcee’s, though she was much taller. The one on the left she could tell was a mech, but at a closer glance could tell it was someone familiar.

 

_Optimus._

 

Not Orion, who stood beside her now. Optimus Prime, in his upgrades and all its glory. He was holding the femme in his arms, who looked altogether stunned, elated and confused, while Optimus held nothing but a gentle smile.

 

And then, all of a sudden, the pink femme was vigorously nodding her head, Optimus’s smile only growing wider as he leaned in to kiss her. And amongst the roaring chaos of the memory, two distinct voices stood out; a feminine voice saying ‘Optimus’ to which the mech replied with ‘Elita.’

 

He had proposed to her. That was a memory of the day he asked her to be his sparkmate. She couldn’t imagine, during a time of great war and bloodshed all across their planet, having such a tender moment between two souls.

 

_Optimus had been engaged._

 

Wait.

 

Hold on.

 

Had been engaged.

 

Why was her mind stopping there? Why was it so sure that Ariel and Orion had not progressed to something deeper?

 

Dread began to flood her stomach far before Orion beside her interjected with a voice that betrayed the pain he had endured. **_“It goes against the Code of the Primes to have a sparkmate. Fortunately for them, that issue was soon resolved.”_**

****

The beautiful memory of the two Autobots was flung aside for a new one to take its place. And almost immediately, she could sense something was wrong, long before she felt hot embers scratching at her skin, smelled thick smoke, tasted too much exposed Energon and salt from the tears she was shedding. Long before her ears were plagued with sound she never wanted to hear again.

 

Optimus screaming.

 

The memory took less time to come into focus. Most of her vision was clouded with roaring flames, bright blue fires that covered a scorched ground. She could see nothing else, until she caught two dark shapes in the distance. She focused in closer, desperately pulling the image toward her.

 

She immediately recognized the standing figure as Alpha Trion, his visage from their conversation still fresh in her mind. His hands were gripped around a broad set of red shoulders, as the other figure continued to fight against Alpha Trion, knees buckling to the ground.

 

Optimus. His hoarse screams continuing to call out for Elita, while coolant streamed down his cheeks.

 

Her mind could gather there was an explosion, which explained the pungent smell of spilled Energon; there had been Cybertronians caught in the blast.

 

And that sorrow, that despair that flowed steady from Optimus’s spark to hers proved a theory she had wished had remained just that; Elita had died.

 

She turned to Orion beside her, who seemed to be in a similar state as the Optimus in the quickly fading memory. **_“It’s not your fault she’s dead,_** ** _”_** she said.

 

She hadn’t thought he heard her, eyes still off in space, as if locked in a memory on repeat, coolant falling freely from his optics. His voice startled her, **_“Just as your family’s deaths were not of your doing.”_**

****

And then suddenly, there was a new memory before them. She thought it was the same memory as before, the heat of fire flicking along her skin with the same smell of burning metal as before. But she was instantly confused to see red and orange flames ignite across her vision.

 

What was this?

 

Her heart caught in her throat as she watched a space amongst the flames clear, revealing a small child curled on the ground, bright blue eyes wide with fear, face coated in soot, strained voice screaming out only to be caught in coughs.

 

“Mom! Dad! Aunt Lorelei! Please! Please! PLEASE! Help! Someone help us!”

 

She immediately shifted her gaze from the memory, letting Orion beside her sift through it, watching as the young girl continued to desperately pull her leg free from the car hood it was trapped beneath as she wailed and screamed, her energy and volume only increasing as her wide eyes fell to a hand peeking out from the flames, the ground below stained deep red.

 

Orion looked on, and then back down to the human beside him, who was now curled in on herself, back to him and the memory, shoulders lurching as she stifled sobs.

 

Aulora jumped as something weighted was laid on each shoulder. There before her stood Optimus, but she was somehow looking at him eye to eye, his hands somehow able to fit perfectly on her shoulder like human hands.

 

**_“_ ** **_We will help each other._ ** **_”_ **

 

And then, his arms were suddenly around her, and in a moment she had never thought possible, Optimus was hugging her, arms fitting perfectly around her as she perfectly within his broad-plated chest.

 

The chaos dissipated around them. And they just stood there, arms around each other, time passing and contorting around them as they remained immovable.

****

****

* * *

 

 

That’s it.

 

No more.

 

She had no more tears left to shed.

 

And she sat there in her newly refurbished attic bedroom, absentmindedly popping the remnants of bubble wrap from the large frames now hanging on the wall, most of the tears her body lost from the previous night to this moment, weren’t even for her.

 

Or her family.

 

They had been shed for other lives lost.

 

Because when one closet door was shoved open, skeletons glistening in the pale spotlight, it was inviting for others to maybe sneak a reflective glance back at theirs.

 

Proditor’s wife and child, Bumblebee’s home, Arcee’s sisters, Optimus’s parents, Elita and certainly everybody else the Cybertronian’s lost during the spoils of war; all such brutally removed from this life.

 

_The cost of war is like an immeasurable tremor that knows no borders, its shockwaves reverberating across the world resulting in universal suffering._

Her aunt would always mention that Aysha Taryam quote on those rare, sober nights when Cliffjumper would reflect to her of the Great War.

 

She had never truly understood what her aunt was trying to get across to her. That was until that night, when her peripheral vision caught the quick flash of a ground bridge opening before her parents’ screams and white heat exploded around her.

 

The Great War’s destruction was not going to stop on Cybertron; it was going to consume Earth as well. And it wasn’t just going to claim Cybetronians; it was going to claim humans as well.

 

 _Her_ humans. Her family.

 

What if her aunt had never pulled over that day when she spotted a red mustang parked off to the side of the road, smoke steaming from beneath its engine?

 

What if she had just called the abandoned car in, instead of getting out of her car to take a peak beneath the hood?

 

What if Cliffjumper had just kept quiet and still, instead of screeching (her aunt’s words) when she lifted his hood to identify the problem?

 

What if she had screamed in return, as any normal human would, and run as far as she could from the talking car, rather than not only conversing with it, but hiring a tow truck to bring it back to her home?

 

Or even herself.

 

What if she had never run to her aunt’s house after school, fresh with tears from a young Vince, who took pleasure in teasing her in front of her classmates?

 

What if she had gone in through the front door where her aunt would’ve heard her and would’ve have met her inside, rather than peeling in through the side door of the garage, running straight into her aunt and a hunched 20-foot red robot in the middle of a shouting match?

 

But at the thought of the red chatting Autobot, her first and greatest friend, she couldn’t help but smile.

 

Smile and smile and smile.

 

_I miss you, Cliffjumper._

_I miss you, Aunt Lorelei._

_I miss you, Mom._

_I miss you, Dad._

_I miss you._

So was that bad of her? To wish for her family to live again, while at the same time not regretting Cliffjumper befriending her and her aunt, who’s involvement in which had been the very reason for her family’s death?

Yeah, she wasn’t supposed to know that. She wasn’t supposed to know that Ratchet, Optimus and Agent Fowler were trying to keep it as tightly between them as possible. Or that Arcee had finally cornered her leader and had him spill the beans to her, Bulkhead and Bumblebee. She wasn’t supposed to know any of that.

 

But she was having nightmares on the regular now, most of the territory in Optimus’s mind open for traversing in the dark hours of the night. When they were both asleep and the guards watching over his mind were out on their lunch break. She had feared that their mind-melding earlier that day would’ve enlightened Optimus to the fact she was gleaning more information from his personal life than what they shared during the day.

 

But he seemed none the wiser. Thought she had gotten better at sneaking in without him noticing.

 

Her thoughts were interrupted at the sound of her doorbell.

 

She got up from her bed and made her way down the stairs, perplexed. She wasn’t expecting anyone. At least not at 1:37 in the morning. “Servo?”

 

The Scraplet came zooming out down the hall at the sound of her call, limbs twitching excitedly, completing circles around her head. He only did that for one of the Bots, Jack, Miko or Raf.

 

So she opened the door.

 

And now she was sitting a top of her marble island beside Jack Darby, the both of them clothed in hoodies, Aulora wearing one of Agent Fowler’s black FBI issued hoodies she somehow ended up with and Jack a red one with his mom’s hospital logo on the front, and sweatpants, each with a cup of coffee turning their fingers a bright pink.

 

She elbowed him gently in the side, not at all comfortable with the tense silence that had settled between them. “You’re lucky I don’t sleep much,” she said jokingly.

 

But all that crossed her friend’s face was concern and worry. He asked, “Why? I’ve been noticing that. Is everything ok?”

 

She blanched, face open and paused, his question throwing her off. He seemed to sense that and gave a tight smile and strained titter. “I’m up at 2 in the morning because for some reason, I’m convinced my dad’s not only back in town, but here to hurt my mom and I. Don’t know why; he was never a violent man. But something just isn’t sitting right in my stomach,” he said, giving a sad smile as if there were some hidden, maniacal humor beneath it all.

 

She knew it was from exhaustion and worry, but it scared her to see him like that.

 

She blew air through her nose, watching her coffee ripple at the force. “I don’t sleep. A lot, really. I get a few, solid hours each night. If I’m lucky. But that’s never enough. I always want to sleep longer, but every time I close my eyes...I see it. I see everything. Just flashes, none of it makes sense…It’s really. It’s really just the Primes. In the Matrix. They hate him Jack. They really hate him. And so they hate me. And I can hear them. When I’m. When I’m asleep. Optimus loses his grip over them when he sleeps. He can’t hide them well. And so I hear everything. How they hate him. How they hate me. Every night.”

 

It was pouring out of her mouth before she could even realize what she was doing. Somewhere through the blur, Jack had wrapped his arm around her and was holding her close, her head burying itself into his shoulder.

 

They sat in silence for a little longer, before she felt his shoulder shake, his cheek resting on top of her head twitching as he smiled. “We’re a mess,” he said, voice lighter than its cynical depths before.

 

She snorted, nodding her head beneath his. “Just a pair of basket cases,” she replied.

 

“Do you think it’s because of the lives we lead now, with the team? Or do you think we would’ve still been this messed up in another life?” he asked, continuing to hold her on her countertop.

 

She knew the question was meant to be a show of comical cynicism for brevity between them, but Jack’s word drew something deeper within her, drawing her back to the thoughts she had been toying around in her head before.

 

Even if her aunt had drove past Cliffjumper that day, no connection with the Cybertronians ever established, would she have been able to lead a normal life?

 

Would she have grown up, gone to school, made friends, and led a normal life?

 

Or would the world know of the fate she had avoided, and would do everything in its power to correct itself?

 

“In the famous words of John Lennon, the only person you are destined to become is the person you decide to be,” she replied after some time, Jack fearing she had slinked away into her own thoughts and forgot he was there. It was easy to see her mind working through too many thoughts.

 

Jack nodded absentmindedly, letting her words sink in. “So, you’re saying we love the chaos too much? The adventure, the adrenaline rush, the chance at something strange and out of this world? We love it too much; we would’ve found it somewhere else?” he asked.

 

She continued to stare at the cup of coffee in her hand, that was now resting on his lap beside his own, knuckles brushing against knuckles. “I think so,” she replied uncertainly. “I don’t know. This whole ‘Alpha Trion planned for me’ idea and all that jazz; I don’t like it. The idea that I have a destiny that’s been seen and prepared for; it’s too much. I believe whatever they believe I’m meant to do; I’ll do of my own accord. But still. I…I just— “

 

“You don’t like the spot light,” Jack finished for her.

 

She hummed a chuckle, burying deeper into the young Darby’s shoulder, he in turn wrapping his arm tighter around her. “Am I that much of an open book?” she asked.

 

He surprised himself by lightly kissing the top of her head, thumb drawing circles along her arm. It was of a gentle intimacy he realized he held only for his mother. “I just know you,” he answered. “Which means I also know you haven’t told anybody about your insomnia, including Optimus.”

 

He felt her still beneath him, and sighed with equal amounts of relief and regret that he had hit a nerve. He wanted to believe he was being paranoid, that his overactive imagination had drawn too many connecting lines, and her almost perpetual state of exhaustion was from something a lot more realistic. Something a lot easier to treat.

 

He hated it when he was right.

 

“You need to tell him.”

 

There was that ram-rod straight posture again, as if she had been physically struck, now by just simply mentioning the Autobot leader.

 

“Why? So he can be completely debilitated with guilt that it’s his connection, and yet he can do nothing to protect me from it? He can’t afford to be worried like that right now.”

 

It wasn’t fair she was keeping this to herself as well. “Just like the team couldn’t afford to know about your family?” he asked.

 

A moment of silence stretched out before them. “That’s low, Jack,” she said.

 

“No, it’s the truth. You bottle everything up in here,” he said, laying his hand below the base of her neck, “your pain, your worries, your fears, because you don’t want to burden people with guilt. The thing is, Aulora, it’s not your place to decide for them. I think I speak for the team when I say that we want all of you Aulora, every emotion, every scar, every demon; we want in.

 

“We don’t want the pretty half of Aulora, or the brave third of Aulora. We want all of you,” he explained, curling her further into him, surrounding more himself around her, as if he could keep everything away from her. “And the thing is, you don’t deserve to give anything less than yourself. We’re big boys and girls. You’d be surprised how light the world can be when you’re not the only one carrying it.”


End file.
